Fragments
by Quantum Leek
Summary: One-shots and prompt-fills: overflow that doesn't fit into my fic Fractured. Requests welcomed.
1. A Brush With Death

A/N: This fic is a series of oneshots, prompt-fills, and random scenes cut from _Fractured_. All exist in an AU where Noctis has a twin sister.

I've just rearranged the whole fic and posted a handful of other chapters that I promised to post like a year ago (okay, it was probably a couple months). Anyway, everything's chronological now and each chapter is tagged with a summary at the top.

* * *

Summary: The aftermath of Noctis' daemon attack, as perceived by Reina.

* * *

 _February, 744:_

An eight year old didn't have the vocabulary to describe what it felt like to watch her brother's life slipping away. Blood was a thing she was only distantly acquainted with. It came from skinned knees and papercuts. Never before had she really considered that there was so much of it that could come out of a person. It seemed to be everywhere; sticky and wet, dripping down Noct's fingers and soaking his clothes. It was stark against his pale skin. Paler than usual, and it wasn't just the dark. His fingers were cold to the touch when she took his hand; it remained lifeless in hers, unresponsive.

Their car sped toward the Citadel, the buildings outside passing by faster than Reina had ever seen. She knelt on the floor in the back. The king sat on the seat with Noctis half cradled in his arms, holding sodden bandages against his son's chest with shaking hands.

"He's going to be okay, isn't he? Father?"

If he had told her everything would be fine she would have believed him. Death was a distant concept associated only with darkness and the sadness it seemed to inflict on people. She had never known anyone who had died before, and at that moment it hadn't even crossed her mind that her brother _could_ die. He had always just been there. Every day of her life. Even when she didn't want him to be. A little part of her felt self-assured that Noctis would open his eyes and smile at her again any minute; all he needed were some bandages. But the way that her father held to him… it made her doubt.

He looked up at her like he didn't quite see her. His skin was pale, too. He clutched at Noctis like he was afraid Noct would leave, and the look in his eyes was haunted. And haunting.

It was that look, more than anything else, that drove the cold spike of fear through her heart. She held onto her brother's hand a little tighter. Her vision blurred and great hot tears spilled down her cheeks.

Their car and the others pulled up outside the Citadel. Though it was night, there were people everywhere-people on the steps, people inside the entrance hall. Clarus was there, and Cor, but her father walked on with a dogged determination, not looking at a soul, not speaking a word as they swept through the main hall and into the elevator. Reina kept on his heels all the way to her bedroom, where still more people were waiting. People with gloves and masks and coats to keep blood off their clothes. She tried not to think about the look on her father's face, but she couldn't help it. That picture sat in her mind and radiated fear. Noctis was not going to be okay. He was not going to wake up and smile at her. He wasn't going to wake up at all.

At the door, Clarus stopped her. He put his hands on her shoulders and kept her from following the king inside. Reina's eyes widened. She reached out and made a swipe for her father's coat, but he was already out of reach.

"Noctis! Father—!" Reina cried, pulling with all her strength. Pointless. Noctis couldn't hear her, and either her father didn't hear or he didn't care. Either way, he didn't turn around.

"Better that you stay out here, Reina," Clarus scooped her up like she was still four. If she hadn't been thoughtless with terror she might have been indignant.

Reina craned to see through the open door, rubbing away stubborn tears and trying to catch her breath. There were doctors all around Noctis' bed—or she thought they must be doctors—and her father stood back, watching as if too horrified to look away, but she could hardly see any of Noctis.

"This is a poor place for a child; take her elsewhere. See if you can calm her," Cor said to Clarus. It was another thing she might otherwise have been irked by; being talked over as if she wasn't there or couldn't understand them. Now, though, the only thing she registered was that Clarus was going to take her away from her brother when he needed her most.

Reina gathered up every ounce of breath that she hadn't spent on tears and screamed: "No— _Father!_ "

She pushed against Clarus' chest, trying to wriggle free of his grasp. He held onto her in spite of her flailing, but inside the bedroom the king turned. His eyes settled on her; this time they actually _did_ focus and he looked as if he had just remembered he had another child.

"Reina…" he breathed. "Let her down, Clarus. Come here, my dear."

It was unnecessary encouragement; as soon as her feet touched the ground she was running for him as fast as her body would take her. She ducked past Cor, in case he tried to stop her, too, but he didn't. No one else did. She hit her father's chest and threw her arms around his neck.

"Reina… my little girl." He lifted her off her feet, straightening, and she held tight to him.

There were tears, again. Only half were hers, and the realization that her father was crying only multiplied her own tears. Father never cried. He was stone and he was steel and he could do _anything_. If _he_ was afraid then Noctis was never coming back. She hardly knew death beyond the word, but she feared it now more than anything.

From her father's arms she could see Noctis laid out on his bed, with his shirt cut open and a great tear in his skin. Reina couldn't watch more than that. She hid her face against her father's neck and stayed there, frozen, while her tears soaked his shoulder.

If Noctis never came back she would only be half. People were really born one at a time; sometimes they just had two halves. She was one of those halves. He was everything she wasn't and she was just the leftover bits. If something had to be thrown away, surely it should have been her half. But that wasn't how life really worked, was it?

The night dragged on. Reina was too exhausted to do anything except cry, but it would have taken a drill to pry her hands from her father's coat. At some point they sat down, the king folding into a chair with his daughter in his lap. His eyes remained fixed on Noctis; Reina couldn't bring herself to look again. Time didn't pass like it should have. It was like the day before a birthday when she knew there would be surprises and magic waiting for her the next day if only the current day would end—except that there wasn't anything good at all waiting for her at dawn. She wanted to go to sleep. More than that she wanted to wake up. She wanted it all to be a bad dream and for the morning to come and scare away the monsters.

But it never did.

Eventually the activity did die down. Reina couldn't have said how long it took except that it was too long.

"We've done all we can for now, Your Majesty. Only time will tell…"

Reina lifted her head and turned to see Noctis. He might have been sleeping if his skin hadn't been so white. There wasn't any blood anymore; even the bandages were hidden away beneath blankets.

"We'll be on hand at all times, in case…"

"Thank you," said the king. He sounded grateful, but he didn't sound like _him_.

The doctors trickled away. After a few moments, they were replaced by others-Cor and Clarus, having finally come in from outside. No one said anything at first. They were all just looking at Noctis. Reina wanted to cry, still, but her head ached and her eyes were dry and burning; when she shut them they stung, but no tears came.

"Regis," Clarus ventured at last. "If you would like to get some rest, he will be well looked after."

The king's eyes flicked toward his friend, but he didn't move. "No, Clarus. I do not intend to leave his side."

"And Reina?" Clarus pressed.

Reina looked up at her father. This time he did tear his eyes from Noctis to look at her. She didn't open her mouth, but she pleaded with everything she had that he wouldn't send her away. He smoothed one hand over her hair, considering for a moment.

"I think it would be best if she remained with me."

She might have smiled if there had been anything left to smile with. Instead she just threw her arms around his neck and stayed there.

"Very well," said Clarus.

There was the sound of shuffling feet, like they were heading for the door. Her father stopped them with a word.

"Clarus. Send word to Sylva."

"Of course."

Reina continued to cling to her father until the other two took their leave, and then a little longer. When she pulled back it was to look at Noctis. He always sat with her when she was sick. He always brought her sweets that she wasn't supposed to have and then shared them with her. No matter what, it never failed to make her feel better. But she didn't think even cake would make this better.

Reina slipped from her father's lap, crossing to her brother and standing by his bed. His hand was still cold, but at least the blood was gone. She held it and looked at him. Behind her she could hear her father shift the armchair closer and sit down just behind her. With all the chaos cleared away, she could think a bit. She thought of that morning, when Noctis had left…

"I'm sorry, Noct…" She squeezed his hand in both of hers, hoping he would wake up. If she had just tried a little harder, been a bit more persuasive, maybe he would have stayed. Then he would be alright.

"What are you sorry for?" Her father asked.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, "For not telling him to stay."

A pause.

"You did tell him to stay," he said it as if he had only just remembered.

"But not _hard_ enough. I should have told him harder."

The king leaned forward to lift her from under her arms and drag her back onto his lap. The hand he settled over her legs shook.

"Reina… why were you so adamant not to leave, today?"

She looked up at him through round eyes. When her father asked anything of her she responded as was proper. But tonight she didn't have a response for him. She remembered the feeling of that morning: fear and a terrible worry for what was to come. But there hadn't been _anything_ coming. They were just going out. Nothing had been different.

"I was scared… of bad things happening." It was the only way she could think to explain it.

"What made you believe anything would happen?" His voice was level, as if they were just discussing what she had learned in school that day, but it felt considerably more weighty to her.

"Because it's a bad day. It felt bad."

She knew it was a poor explanation, but as much as she hated it, she couldn't think of any other way to explain herself. Her father didn't push her. He seemed to accept that she couldn't explain any better than she had. So he simply sighed and held her against his chest, leaning back in the armchair. Reina curled against him, holding tight to the front of his coat. She kept her eyes open, fixed on her twin. She was afraid that if she shut them he would wake up without her… or worse.

But eventually she _did_ close her eyes. She didn't remember it; she didn't remember her eyelids growing heavy until it was simply too much to keep them open any longer. She didn't remember her head drooping forward against her father's chest, or the way the king drew and extra blanket from the edge of Noct's bed to cover her up.

When she opened her eyes next, it was light outside. She was still exactly where she had been when she had fallen asleep. So was Noctis. Her father, still sitting with his arms around her and a blanket thrown over the both of them, was fast asleep. He didn't get to remain that way for long.

Clarus was the first to arrive and though he had the good grace to bring with him breakfast and coffee, the king didn't eat much. After Clarus and breakfast there was a steady stream of people all day. Some were for Noctis and some were for the king. Many of them were sent away with an indifferent wave, and Reina watched her father give instructions to Clarus to take care of things.

Sometime in the morning, Reina's governess appeared in the doorway looking characteristically grim.

"Your Majesty," she bowed rather than curtsied because that was just her. "The princess' school begins in less than an hour."

Reina had completely forgotten that school was something she attended until that moment. Her eyes moved from Agnys in the doorway up to her father: they turned round and pleading. Surely he wouldn't send her away from Noctis, _now_?

The king, similarly, glanced at the governess before looking to his daughter.

"Do you wish to attend?" He asked.

Reina was surprised, not used to being asked her opinion on things she was supposed to be doing—they were just done, regardless of whether or not one wanted to do them—but she answered, anyway.

"No, Father."

He looked back at Agnys, "If you would have her excused, whatever is required, I would be grateful."

"Of course, Your Majesty." She left.

Reina could hardly believe her ears. All she had said was that she didn't want to go to school and now she wasn't going to school. She supposed, however, that these were unique circumstances. Her father understood she couldn't possibly focus while Noct was…

"Is he going to be wake up, Father?"

The king looked down at her, his arms slung loosely about her. His face seemed darker than usual—at least in spots: darkness ringed his eyes, deep lines settled around his mouth, and his gaze was on Noctis more often than not. Even when he looked at Noct, though, he hardly seemed to see. It wasn't a way she was used to seeing her father and that was unsettling, but he _did_ look at her when she spoke.

"I have no answer for you, my dear…" he shook his head and his gaze drifted back to Noct. His eyes were over-bright again, and not at all in a nice way. "I ought to. A father should have all the answers, should he not?"

Reina, stunned, watched a single tear streak down his cheek and disappear into his beard. She didn't understand what she had said or why he was crying again, except about Noctis, but she knew that whenever _she_ was crying, Noctis hugged her and everything was alright after. So she shifted up on her knees in his lap and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him as tight as her little arms could.

"Don't cry, Father… everything will turn out alright."

She didn't see the little smile—melancholy though it was—that chased the dark from her father's face as he hugged her back. She didn't see the way he relaxed, his eyes shut for practically the first time since Clarus had come with breakfast—the remnants of which still sat on a tray near Noct's bed. But she did feel his hands, both of them big enough to cover her back entirely, holding her a little closer.

Eventually Clarus returned and they both looked up at him. She still hadn't completely forgiven him for the night before, but it would have been childish to admit as much.

"Reina," he said gently, as if he hadn't tried to keep her from her family just twelve hours before. "Why don't you come lay down with Noctis? I'm sure he would like to have you close—be careful, now. We wouldn't want to disturb his injuries."

He coaxed her off the king's lap and onto Noct's bed, where she curled up on his far side facing out toward the king. Then he drew her father away, just outside the door, for a hushed conversation. Reina watched them for a time before she propped up on her elbows, looking down at her twin.

"You'll wake up, won't you, Noct? You have to. I don't know what we would do if you didn't."

Predictably, he didn't respond. She sighed and settled her head on his pillow, shutting her eyes.

When she woke up it was dark outside the window and someone had tucked a blanket around her. Noctis was still right where he had been before: sleeping motionless in his bed. The armchair nearby was occupied by the king once more and Clarus was gone.

"Good morning, my dear," he said when she sat up yawning. "Or perhaps I should say 'good evening'."

Reina blinked a rubbed her eyes. When had she even fallen asleep? _How_ had she fallen asleep? She had just laid down, and… she didn't even remember her father returning from his talk with Clarus, but he must have done.

"Are you hungry? I will have someone bring…" The king glanced toward the still-open door and his sentence paused in the middle. "...some dinner—come in, Ignis, it is quite alright."

Reina looked where her father did and watched as Ignis stepped back into view, looking self-conscious. She couldn't think why he should be embarrassed to come: he was Noct's friend, it was only rational for him to be worried.

"Your Majesty, Your Highness." He bowed to them. "I apologize for the intrusion."

The king brushed his apology aside and waved him forward. "Not at all, Ignis. Your place is with Noctis, after all."

Ignis crept forward until he stood at the foot of Noct's bed. They all sat in silence for a moment, looking at the sleeping prince and wondering…

That night, after a dinner they shared with Ignis, Reina slept in Noctis' bed while the king maintained his position in the armchair. By morning little had changed. Noctis slept on. The king looked a little more pale, a little more wane, and after a scant breakfast, Clarus managed to pull him away once more.

Reina remained. She sat, vigilant, by her brother's side with a book propped in her lap. She didn't attend school that day, either, and her father made no objection to it. How could she leave, when Noctis needed her?

She missed him. It seemed silly because he was right there, but she missed her twin terribly. She missed his laughter and his smiles; she missed the way he would run up and down the halls while whoever was supposed to be watching them chased after, trying to convince him to channel his energy into something more productive. She missed talking before bed after lights-out. She missed arguing with him. She would have given almost anything for a derisive remark from him, just then.

She sighed, her book lying forgotten in her lap, and watched him sleep. If he would just open his eyes…

Noctis shifted, his head turning to one side. Reina stopped breathing. He had hardly moved in two days, but now he did. She could see his eyes moving beneath closed lids. Dreaming. But not a good dream, if that sound he made—caught somewhere between pain and fear—was anything to judge by.

"Noctis?"

Beneath the blankets he shifted, restless. His hands caught hold of the sheets and he gave a tiny cry like a wounded animal.

"Noctis! Wake up!" Reina leaned forward on her hands and knees, dropping the book from her lap, and touched his shoulder gently—that part, at least, wasn't injured. "Noct, it's me, Reina. Wake up, _please_."

She watched as he stilled and she held her breath. His face turned toward her and, with a flicker, his eyes opened.

" _Noctis_ ," she breathed, hardly daring to believe it was real. There were tears in her eyes and she didn't know where they had come from, but he was _alive_ —he was _awake_ —and that was all that mattered.

" _Father!_ " Reina lifted her voice and threw it to the open door, as loud as her little lungs would allow. "Come quick!"

It didn't occur to her at just that moment that such instruction could be taken as either good news or bad news and that it would have been helpful to add 'he's awake,' for the overall health of everyone in the Citadel. So she didn't. The result was that a dozen people besides the king rushed into the room and her father, who came last with Clarus just behind, had to fight his way through them.

There was a stricken look on his face—just as terrified as he had been the first night, perhaps more. Noctis wore a look of bemused surprise. Reina clapped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide, as she realized what she had done. She didn't have the chance to apologize. Indeed, even if she had, it would have immediately been forgotten, because when the king found his son not dying, as he had feared, but very much alive and _awake_ for the first time in days, he forgot everything else. He dropped onto the edge of the bed, taking Noct's hand and covering it.

"Noctis…"

Clarus ushered the crowd of people out. Reina gave him an apologetic look when he caught her eye, but the King's Shield merely shook his head and stepped outside himself, giving the royal family their moment alone.

"Dad…" Noctis' voice came out quiet and hoarse from disuse. He turned his head slowly to the side, as if it was nearly too heavy to move, and looked at Reina. "Rei…"

"Noct!" Reina gave a tearful laugh and threw her arms around his neck.

"I thought I was burning… and daemons…" Noct said. "But then I heard you."

"Noctis…" said the king. "I will let no one harm you."

* * *

Though Noctis had passed the dark, dreamless sleep and come out on the other side, he was hardly well. The daemon had left him unable to walk and practically bed-bound. Meanwhile, he slept only with Reina at his side and then often fitfully, dreaming of monsters and fire.

He had said hardly a word since waking, and though no one brought it up directly to him, Reina could see that others were unsettled by it. Their father, used to only facing silence from Noctis when he was pouting—which could easily be bribed away—now found that much conversation with Noct now included long stretches of quiet and blank stares.

Outside the bedroom door, doctors discussed with the king, in hushed tones, what was wrong with the prince.

What was _wrong_ with him.

Reina slipped off the edge of Noct's bed and shut the door, cutting off the conversation outside, closing them off in a quiet little bubble—if only for a moment. They would be back, she knew, but he didn't need to listen to people telling Father what was wrong with him. Nothing was wrong with him, except that he was still healing and maybe needed some help. That was all.

Door shut, she returned to lay down on the bed with her twin, wrapping her arms around his neck and snuggling close, though she was wary of his injuries. Noct grabbed her arm and held on. He didn't thank her and he didn't need to. There were no words spoken by the twins. For a moment it was just quiet—blissful quiet after two days of a steady stream of people coming in a poking and prodding and hovering. When would it end? It wasn't even Reina they were fussing over and she was still annoyed. Or perhaps it was worse because it was Noct.

The door opened again and one of the attendants outside poked his head in.

"You shouldn't shut the door, Your Highness," he scolded Reina. "If something were to happen…"

Reina sat up, letting Noct hold onto her hand instead, and glared at the attendant. "Pray, do _not_ tell me what is to be done with my own door. And do not intrude on the privacy of the prince and princess."

The man looked taken aback, clearly having not expected such venom from an eight year old—and from the princess, who was well-known to be pliant and well-mannered, no less. Before he could think how to respond, the king appeared in the doorway behind him.

"What is going on?" He asked, his tone heavy as his eyes moved from the attendant to his children.

"I—nothing, Your Majesty." The attendant bowed out of the room and practically fled down the hall.

Reina stopped glaring when her father, after sparing a glance after the man, approached them.

"Noctis just wants to be alone, sometimes," Reina answered his unspoken question. "There are too many people coming in and out all the time."

"Indeed?" There was a hint of surprise on the king's face, but from the way he looked at her, then Noct, Reina surmised it was not so much the revelation of Noct's wishes, but the fact that _she_ had said them.

Noct didn't say anything. He didn't nod or shake his head, but when the king fixed him with that unintentionally piercing gaze, he dropped his eyes and refused to look up again.

"Well then. Perhaps you will be pleased to hear that we are going away, Noctis."

He _did_ look up at that. Reina squeezed his hand, but neither of them spoke. Away where? And who was included in 'we'? Surely not _just_ Noct?

"To Tenebrae. There resides there a woman—a friend—who will help to mend your injuries." He supplied the answer to one question but not the other. Both twins stared at him intently, neither one realizing how tightly they were holding to the other. Finally Noctis turned his gaze, looking from the king to Reina, then back again.

"Ah." Their father followed his eyes and guessed the second question. His gaze, however, landed on their hands, clasped so tightly together that both sets of small knuckles had turned white. "All three of us. Of course. I should never dream of splitting you up."

He reached out and settled on hand on either of their heads, giving them a warm smile.

"We depart tomorrow. Someone will be along to assist with your packing; I shall see you both quite soon."

The king turned and left. Reina looked and Noct and each of them breathed a sigh of relief. Then, for the first time since he had woke, Noctis hazarded a smile. A small, shaky smile, perhaps, but a smile nonetheless.


	2. New Horizons

Summary: In Tenebrae, Noctis is spirited away by the young Oracle-to-be, leaving Reina on her own. Right up until Ravus comes looking for her.

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March _744:_

Tenebrae was nothing like Lucis— or, at least, nothing like any of Lucis that Reina had seen. Where Insomnia's richest forest was made of towering buildings, Tenebrae's was thick with trees. It was as green as home was grey. Even parts that should have been grey were more silver.

The people were beautiful, too. The queen was tall and blonde and regal, and the prince and princess were just the same. Lunafreya was twelve and she was _perfection_. She held herself just right; she was the picture of calm composition. She was kind and gentle and wise. She was the sort of princess that could one day grow up to be queen.

Nothing at all like Reina.

Reina sat alone, apart from all the others. Noctis was with Lunafreya; he liked to spend time with her and she tried not to begrudge him that. But it left her alone, and the vicious little voice in the back of her mind murmured in her ear that _Luna_ hadn't sat by Noctis' bedside waiting for him to wake, all those days, like she had.

Father was absent as well, though that wasn't anything different. He often spent time with the Oracle—Sylva Nox Fleuret. She was beautiful, too. And when he wasn't with her he was with Noctis. Today he was with her, so Reina was left to her own devices.

It wasn't so bad. Among all the strangeness, Tenebrae was certainly curious. In those idle hours, there was plenty to explore. Though it was hard to convince herself it wouldn't be more fun with Noctis. She tried not to dwell on that. Instead she picked her way through a maze of spindly trees with smooth white bark and collected flowers. The blue blooms reminded her of the Oracle's dress. She hadn't known a dress could look so much like a flower before they had come to Tenebrae. Perhaps some day she would wear a gown like that.

Reina smiled at her own folly—she would never have such a dress—and continued along, humming snatches of a song as she went. She climbed a boulder—which seemed a mountain to her but would hardly have been an obstacle for her father—with a handful of flowers and stood atop, looking down into the little stream on the opposite side. Its bubbling made the only sound for what seemed miles.

There was never such quiet in Insomnia. The only places that had sweet little rivers were the parks, and even those were surrounded by the city; just outside the boundaries, cars hummed a continuous tone, but having lived there her whole life, Reina never thought about it. Now that he was gone, she _did_ think of the absence of sound. It was… eerie. It made her feel like she was the only person alive for miles and miles. Completely and utterly alone.

Reina shivered at the thought. She turned to look over her shoulder, back in the direction she had come from, wondering if she shouldn't go back and find Noctis or Father. But no. They were both busy, occupied with people and things besides her. It would be rude to join uninvited.

"Cold? It can get chilly out here this time of year."

Reina very nearly fell off her rock, so startled was she, as she spun and hastened to find the source of the voice. At first she thought it must have been a ghost; nothing else could have been so quiet and she had _just_ been thinking she was the only one alive.

"Careful! I'm sorry; I didn't mean to scare you."

Firm hands grasped her arms and put her back on her feet. Reina, mouth open and eyes wide, looked up to find herself eye-to-eye with the prince: Ravus Nox Fleuret. She stared at him for a moment before she remembered he had spoken twice and she had yet to say a word.

"I wasn't scared. Just surprised." And a little bit scared, alright. But eight year olds didn't admit that.

"Well I didn't mean to startle you, either." He smiled. "Are you cold?"

Standing on the rock, Reina was about eye level with him. She considered him severely; he was built more solidly than her brother but, then again, he was twice their age. His hair was blond like his mother's and sister's, his skin lightly freckled, and every time she had seen him so far there had been an open smile on his face. Warm.

"No. It gets colder than this at home," Reina said simply. It was early spring already; time for snows to fade into warm drizzle. But Reina liked the cold. "I just thought it was odd. Don't you miss hearing the cars?"

"Cars?"

"Don't you have cars?"

"Of course. We have several at the palace. But the roads are a long way off from here, and cars aren't all that frequent on them. You can hear the train when it comes, though." He spoke levelly, his voice clear and bright, reminiscent of the stream just below.

"Trains are alright. But I like the cars."

He smiled: part bemused, part amused. "You like the sound of cars?"

"I suppose so," Reina said, looking down at the stream again and falling silent. The quiet really was strange. She was glad when Ravus broke it.

"My mother said I should show you Tenebrae. She said you might be lonely."

"Oh, I'm not lonely," Reina lied. "Just… alone. You don't have to. Not if you don't want."

The last thing she wanted was to be forced upon someone, or taken up out of pity. She would make do on her own.

"But I do want," he said simply. "How would it be if I showed you our cars—and anything else you would like to see—and maybe you could tell me some about Lucis."

Reina brightened. She hadn't admitted it to a soul, but she _was_ homesick for the rich greys of Insomnia: the stone and chrome, the cloudy skies, that wonderful smell of wet pavement when it rained.

"I think I would like that, Prince Ravus."

"Then allow me to escort you, Princess Reina."

* * *

It wasn't so much that Reina was especially interested in cars; more accurately, she hadn't thought much about them until they were so scarce—by her definition—and now that she did think about them they reminded her of home. So they looked at cars. Then they walked the long black road that crossed a delicate stone bridge and twisted off farther into the mountains. There were no mountains in Insomnia; it was strange to find herself standing on solid ground and yet so far up. When one was on the ground in Lucis, one was _on the ground_.

Still, Reina had to admit that it was pretty.

"Pretty… but not Lucis, is that it?" Ravus smiled. He leaned against bridge railing while Reina sat atop, her feet dangling. She hadn't said as much, and she might have denied it immediately, but the look on his face—teasing and amused—stopped her.

"Tell me, then, what is your favorite thing about Lucis?"

Reina considered. She hadn't really thought about anything specifically pertaining to Lucis before that week; everything that made up Insomnia was just life: a constant and ubiquitous thing. One didn't _think_ about things that were everywhere. But Tenebrae was very much different. It wasn't that it was _bad_ different, but more that she missed home.

"I don't know… I love all of Insomnia, I suppose. I like when we get to go for a drive with Father in the Regalia; sometimes he takes us through the city and from the ground everything is so _big_. Buildings stretch up and up—higher than your trees—and Lucians did that. We built those things. Sometimes we go on parade and all the people crowd the streets while we drive through. _So many_ people. More than I could ever count. And they smile and wave and they're happy. I like that. I like the city and the people. I like the Citadel."

"That's where you live, isn't it? Tell me about the Citadel."

Reina looked down from the bridge and thought of home, trying to think how to describe it in a way that did the Citadel proper justice.

"Fenestala is more like a castle from a fairy tale." She kicked her feet while she spoke. From where they were on the bridge, she could look back over the manor and she conjured up the image of the Citadel in her mind—how it looked standing on the drive at the bottom of the stairs, with great walls stretching up toward the sky. "It almost looks like it grew here with the mountain. The Citadel is like a square-pronged spire; it didn't grow, it was built. It's like squares and lines with less circles and curves. Inside it's gold and black and shining. It's not so quiet. There are _always_ people. And there's always light. It doesn't get dark like here; even when you turn out the lights in your bedroom there are lights outside in the city, and the light from the crystal—a great big beam of light, shooting up from the Citadel to power the Wall."

They were quiet for a time, each thinking about what she had said. Ravus, apparently, drew deeper conclusions from it.

"So, in Lucis you're never alone and it's never dark. I can see why you might feel lonely here, then."

"I'm not lonely." Reina stuck her chin out, obstinate. She just missed home. And her brother. And her father, but he was never there, anyway. "I'm too grown up."

Ravus grinned. "Everyone gets lonely. Even grown ups."

She didn't believe him, but she didn't respond, anyway. It didn't seem like he was going to believe her if she told him she still wasn't lonely.

"Come on, then. I'll show you some more of Fenestala. If we get to the kitchen before dinner, they might part with some snacks."

* * *

It was a nice view, sitting on one of the upper balconies as they shared little fruit-filled cakes from the kitchen. From up high, Reina could see the steep slopes of the mountain falling away, then rising up again in the distance. There were lush green fields not far below, in a sort of miniature valley. More of those blue flowers dotted among the grass, blending it to a sort of blue-green.

Reina kicked her legs, holding the little cake in both hands as she absorbed the sights in silence. Ravus was a good conversationalist, but he seemed to have noted that she didn't mind sitting in quiet—once they were out of the strangely silent forest. He let it remain, answering questions when she posed them or asking them of her if he suspected she really did want to talk.

It was a little bit easier to understand the strange green land with a guide who knew it. And it was a little bit easier not to label anything different as bad, when she understood a little more. He was good company. Reina didn't feel less lonely—because, of course, she hadn't been lonely in the first place—but she dwelled a little less often on her brother's whereabouts.

After their snack on the balcony, he showed her the library, having gotten out of her that she liked books.

It was _lovely_. Just like home; a great big room lined with shelves and shelves, towering so high that even her father would have needed a ladder to reach them.

Ravus watched her walk around the room with wide-eyed awe. She stopped in front of a shelf, extended her fingers, then stopped herself, looking back at him instead.

"May I?"

"Of course; you can borrow some to take back to your room and read, if you like."

Reina brightened considerably at that. She trailed her fingers down the spines of several old tomes, reading titles as she moved around the room. Many of the books, bound in leather and labelled with beautiful calligraphy, were very old but none were dusty. In the end, she ended up with two tomes nearly as big as her torso: a book on the history of Tenebrae and one full of fairytales that she had never heard of before.

Ravus carried them back to the room she shared with Noctis for her. She would have happily dived straight in, but by then it was time to get ready for dinner. So, with considerable regret, Reina left the books behind on her bed, changed from her play clothes, and followed her new friend to the dining room.

The dining area, like most of the rest of the manor, was open and airy, with a lofty, arching ceiling overhead. Reina was seated beside Ravus and across from Noctis. At one end of the table sat the Oracle; at the other, nearest Reina and Noct, was their father. Noct was reserved, though Reina suspected he had been open enough with just Lunafreya; it was the presence of Ravus and Tenebrae's queen that made him keep his eyes on his plate and his mouth shut. Reina was quiet as well. Not because she felt particularly shy around the others, but because she firmly believed in not speaking unless spoken to when there were adults present. Children, as they said, should be seen and not heard.

"It is a rare occasion that our table is so full," the Oracle observed once they were all settled and the first course was served.

"Indeed," agreed the king, "I suspect your table, much like ours, is accustomed to hosting only three."

"On most nights," said the Oracle.

"Sometimes dignitaries visit from across the valleys; they are our most frequent dinner guests—and house guests, since back-and-forth travel becomes inconvenient," Ravus chimed in, evidently feeling full at ease. But, Reina supposed, he was practically an adult himself. Perhaps when she was sixteen she would be so comfortable interjecting among grown-ups.

"That is certainly understandable. Lucis is very nearly reduced to a single city, for all diplomatic purposes; Tenebrae is considerably more spread out." The king paused, lifting his glass, before his eyes settled on Noctis. "How are you feeling, Noctis?"

"Fine," Noct mumbled, not looking up from his plate.

Reina fought not to squirm with annoyance. Not at Noct, precisely, but at the situation. Of course he wasn't going to respond, not really, not over dinner with people he didn't know. But it was precisely like the feeling of knowing the answer to a question in class and watching the teacher call on someone who didn't—and didn't even want to answer.

After a moment, the king tried again, "How do you find Tenebrae?"

This time Noct didn't even speak. He just gave a noncommittal shrug and continued sifting vegetables out of his soup.

Somehow, Reina managed to keep her mouth shut—though she did have to fix her eyes on her own soup to prevent herself from looking irked. Did he have to be so rude?

The table was silent for a few bites of soup; Reina reminded herself that Noct was uncomfortable and therefore withdrawn so that she didn't hold it against him. The silence stretched on long enough that it was clear the king wasn't going to ask Reina the same question and so, eventually, the Oracle did.

"And you, Reina? How do you like Tenebrae?"

Reina looked up from her soup, a little bit surprised at having been addressed at all. She opened her mouth to give a polite reply, but Ravus beat her to the answer.

"She doesn't like it."

Reina flushed scarlet, shooting Ravus a glare before ducking her head and trying to regain her composure. She could feel the Oracle's eyes on her; indeed, she suspected everyone except Noct was looking at her. She clasped her hands tightly together in her lap and stitched some words together to repair the damage.

"I _do_ like it." Her voice sounded small, even in her own ears. Perhaps 'like' wasn't the proper word—she didn't _dislike_ it, but it was strange and completely unfamiliar, and it was difficult to _like_ something so alien so quickly. Given time she might have. But they had only been in Tenebrae for a few days. "It is very different from home and I… am not used to it, yet."

She chose her words carefully, enunciating each without contractions or any of the more informal language she might otherwise have used. Even if she couldn't get her voice to sound any stronger, at least she could make the words sound right.

When she looked up Ravus was smiling apologetically at her.

"Sorry. I was only teasing. There's no shame in liking home best," he said and then, to his mother, "She's a bit homesick."

Reina ducked her head again, hazarding a glance toward her father. He _was_ watching the conversation, as she had guessed. He caught her looking and held her gaze in that way only he could do.

"Are you missing Insomnia, Reina?"

Her cheeks went faintly pink once more, but she answered truthfully, all the same. "Yes, Father."

He smiled gently. "Ravus is right; there is nothing to be ashamed of in that. But take heed: it is a rare thing indeed for us to leave Lucis, so you ought try to enjoy the change of scenery while we are here. Home will always be there waiting for you to return."

Pleased for his smile—and more pleased that he gave no sign of disapproval in his attention to her—Reina beamed. "I will, Father!"

The remainder of the meal passed, alternating between comfortable quiet and comfortable conversation. Before it was through Reina was yawning. The king sent them off to bed, giving both of them a hug and a kiss before Luna and Ravus led them away.

It felt a little less foreign, walking down the dimly lit halls, with Noctis at her side. Reina took his hand, since Luna had already taken over pushing his wheelchair, and they walked mostly in silence. At their door, goodnights were said. Ravus promised to take her farther down the road in the morning, if she wanted, and for the first time Reina felt it might not be so bad to see more of Tenebrae.

When Noct was helped into bed and the door was shut behind them, Reina climbed in after him, leaving her own bed to the books she had deposited there earlier. Noct didn't object. He just snuggled up beside her like they had done every night for the past week and a half.

"I missed you," Reina admitted.

"I missed you, too. Why didn't you come with us?"

"I didn't want to be in the way. You like Luna a lot, don't you?"

Noctis made a face at her. "Don't be dumb. Come with us, tomorrow. You don't have to go with Ravus; he's too old to be fun."

Reina grinned, her teeth flashing white in the dark. "He's nice. I like him. It'll be fine, so long as we're together at night, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Noct agreed.

In spite of the yawns they had both been covering over dinner, they didn't fall asleep for quite some time. First they lay awake, exchanging accounts of what they had done that day. By the time conversation was too thick with yawns to continue and Reina's eyelids had grown too heavy to fight, she felt as if she had been right there with Noct all day.

"Goodnight… Noct," Reina managed, yawning.

" 'Night," Noctis mumbled, sounding as if he was already asleep and merely responding out of reflex.

Reina smiled sleepily and snuggled closer to her twin. Somehow, home didn't seem so far away, anymore.


	3. Bad Dreams

A/N: This was in the original draft of _Fractured,_ but I cut it for various reasons. Looking back, I'm not really happy with the voice in it, but the same could probably be said for a lot of that fic, too.

Anyway, this is Noct's perspective on Reina's dreams (I replaced it with Reina's actual dream in Tenebrae), and a little bit of family fluff.

Also Noct gets punched in the nose.

* * *

 _March 744, Tenebrae:_

The first time was the worst.

Screams splitting the silence of night, waking in an unfamiliar place and forgetting, for half a second, where he was and why his legs refused to work. Noctis clawed his way out from under the blankets and sat up, struggling for air. The screams didn't fade like they usually did when he woke. They weren't coming from inside his head. They were coming from the bed beside his.

Reina was sitting up, as well. But she had her knees tucked up to her chest and her arms thrown over her head, as if to ward off some unseen attacker. Her eyes were shut and her mouth open. A high, unending scream issued from her mouth, only broken by gasps for air.

But there was no one else in the room, no _thing_ else in the room.

Noctis' heart pounded so hard in his chest he feared it might burst. His breath stuck in his throat, refusing to descend all the way to his lungs and give the air he so desperately needed. It had to be a dream. It _had_ to be, because there was nothing else. Unless he was dreaming and only thought the room was empty, but that was absurd. Even more absurd than his sister having a nightmare that left her cowering and shrieking like her life depended on it. She had never once done that. Not even after he told her the scariest story he could think of.

When Noctis' breath did come through, the first thing he uttered was his sister's name.

"R-Reina!" His voice sounded wobbly and uncertain, even to his own ears. He clutched at his blanket and tried again. " _Reina!_ Wake up!"

There was no discernible response from her.

Noctis threw his blankets back and swung his legs out. They wouldn't hold his weight, but what else could he do? He wasn't just going to _sit there_. Whenever he dreamed of daemons and blood, Reina always seemed to be there. He had to at least try.

Predictably, his legs buckled under his weight. He hit the tile floor with outstretched arms, but that was no more than he had expected. If he could just reached the other bed, he could pull himself up…

The door to their room flew open.

His dad swept in, half-dressed in a loose shirt and pants but somehow looking every inch a king. There were others behind him; Luna, Ravus, their mother, and some of the household staff that Noctis didn't recognize. His dad took only an instant to glance around the room—empty save for his son on the floor beside one bed and his daughter in the other—before his feet were moving. He scooped Noctis up as if he weighed no more than a doll and deposited him on Reina's bed, then sat down in front of her.

"Reina... " Noctis pushed himself upright and reached out toward his sister.

"Reina." Their father's voice was that commanding tone he wielded as his greatest tool—sharp when he wanted it to be, but completely inescapable no matter what. If he was unnerved by his daughter's unsettling behavior it didn't show. "You need to wake, now, Reina."

Noctis watched as his father drew Reina's arms away from her head, guiding her, with one hand beneath her chin, until she sat rather than cowered. She struggled against him, trying to pull her hands free. The wordless scream of terror turned into cries of objection.

"No— _No!_ " Her eyes were open now, but they might as well not have been. They were wide and empty. Whatever she was looking at wasn't in the room with them.

" _Reina_ ," their father spoke again, this time more sternly. He caught her face between his hands and put his own head directly in the path of her vision. "Look at me, Reina. Just me, nothing else. _See me._ "

When the king ordered a thing it was done, and without objection. Noctis knew this, yet he was still awed by it; their father could command away a nightmare, could bring life back to Reina's eyes and quell the endless screams. She stopped trying to pull away from him, stopped objecting. Her eyes closed and opened again and seemed to actually _see_ what was before her. Her frantic breathing subsided to that of fading adrenaline.

"Father..?" It was the first thing she said, and she said it as if she had lost faith in her eyes.

"Just me," he repeated. She curled against him and he wrapped his arms around her before turning to look at Noctis. "Are you alright, Noct?"

Noctis nodded, still stunned and fighting back his own pounding heart. He put his hand on his sister's back to make sure she was still whole and real. She seemed solid beneath his fingers, though her whole body seemed to quiver.

"Was it a dream, Rei?"

She didn't respond but to shake her head against the king's chest. Noctis looked up at his father for confirmation. Reina was probably still confused. It had to have been a dream.

"It was just a dream, right, Dad?"

"Yes, it was a dream. Just a dream, Reina." He smoothed a hand over Reina's hair and down her back.

From the doorway, someone cleared their throat. Noctis looked up with a start. He had forgotten the others entirely, but there were still all standing there, not quite inside the room but not wholly out of it, either.

"Your Majesty…" It was the woman who spoke. Noctis couldn't remember her name, but he knew she was called The Oracle.

"It is quite alright, Sylva. Reina has just had a nightmare; I appreciate your concern and your continued support. We shall be fine, now."

She bowed her head to him and one by one the people standing in the doorway trickled away, leaving just the three of them in the bedroom.

"Don't leave, Father." Reina's voice was muffled against their father's chest.

"I will not."

Reina pulled back from him suddenly, nearly hitting Noctis with her head as she looked up.

"You'll stay here?" She asked again.

"Yes," the king wore a calm little almost-smile as he said it; he loosened his hold on her so just his hands remained on her shoulders.

"In my bed?"

This time he really did smile. He leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "Yes, my dear."

"And Noctis, too?" She turned to look at him, reaching out. There wasn't far to reach.

Noctis took her hand, pleased to see light and focus back in his sister's eyes, even if her fingers trembled against his.

"If Noctis wishes," said their father.

Noct nodded, not looking away from Reina. He hadn't been able to help her while she dreamed, but this was something he could do. Stay with her like she stayed with him all those days when he couldn't move.

Reina turned and threw her arms around him, hugging him as tightly as she could.

"I'm sorry for waking you up," she said.

"I'm sorry for not waking you up," Noct said. "I tried—"

"I think," said their father, settling one hand on either of their heads, "That going back to sleep would be the best thing for all of us."

Noctis would have observed that it was a good thing the beds were large, but in the end it hardly mattered. Reina remained holding onto him as she had been, and Noct didn't object. Their father tucked the blankets around them and settled close enough behind Reina that he could lay with one arm thrown over both twins. Surprisingly, it was comfortable. It was safe and it was warm. And, most importantly, it didn't feel the lonely in the slightest.

* * *

 _May 748:_

Noctis was sleepless and sitting by the open window, considering where he would go when he invariably climbed out. Reina was, to the best of his knowledge, sound asleep in her own bed. They could very easily have had separate rooms; it wasn't as if there was no space in the Citadel, but they had elected to share all the same. Whatever Noctis said to her, she _was_ his best friend. They were opposites in so many ways, but it was impossible to have lived and grown so close together without gaining some level of understanding and empathy. Reina was a perfectionist and a stickler for the rules and Noctis was anything but. All the same, she never told anyone when he snuck out at night and she freely offered help on homework. He never complained but he never asked for it, either. Nor did he ask for her company when he sat alone in the schoolyard, but he appreciated it all the same.

He glanced at her. If he hadn't known for certain that she would turn her nose up at it, he would have invited her to come with him. But she would, so he resolved not to wake her. Right up until the moment when she stopped breathing.

It wasn't a subtle pause. It was a gasp and an abrupt stop.

Noctis stopped, his hands on either side of the window, and watched as his sister shifted in her sleep, writhing as if she _could_ not breathe, rather than was choosing not to. Panic lit in his chest. The nightmares and screaming were unnerving enough, but he had never been legitimately concerned for her safety. From where he stood, this looked like a different beast altogether.

"Reina?" He turned from the window and approached her bed.

"Reina, wake up." He reached out to touch her shoulder.

It had some effect, just not the one he was hoping for. His twin gave a strangled cry and jerked away from him; her breathing resumed but it was fast and panicked, her movements matching.

" _Reina!_ " Noctis leaned over her, putting one knee on the bed to brace himself and grabbing her shoulders.

In hindsight, it was a poor decision. Asleep she might have been, but she had as much combat training as he did. If he had been expecting it, it would have been just possible to get out of the way. As it was, he tended _not_ to expect his sister to punch him in the face while she was asleep.

" _Ow!_ " Noctis toppled backward, landing gracefully on his rear and putting a hand to his nose. Pain blossomed when he touched it. His fingertips came away coated in blood; it looked black in the moonlight.

"Gods. See if I try to help again."

He chose, instead, to find something to stop the flow of blood. There was the spare shirt he had left on the floor earlier that night, so he balled it up and pressed it tenderly against his nose. The servant who picked up the laundry wasn't going to be pleased, but he didn't dwell on it. Once he was back on his feet his eyes returned to his sister. In spite of his claim that he wasn't going to help her in return for the bloody nose she had given him, he couldn't help the concern that twisted in his stomach. Was it really the same sort of dream? Why did it look so much different? He stood, frozen with indecision for a moment. Just as he had made up his mind to send for their father, Reina sat upright and cried out.

Never before had Noctis thought he might be relieved to discover that she was having a nightmare. Just a _normal_ nightmare. Of the sort that she couldn't wake from and occasionally gave her glimpses of things that people weren't supposed to see. But just then he gave a sigh of relief and dropped to sit on the edge of his bed.

The door opened soon enough. It was locked from the inside, but that tended not to stop the king. He swept into the room without pause and made quick work of waking and calming his daughter, as he always did. Noctis held the crumpled up shirt against his nose and watched with a blank expression. Once Reina was still and quiet against their father's chest, the king turned to look at him. His eyebrows raised as he registered for the first time that Noctis was holding his nose.

"Noctis? Are you alright?"

"Fine," Noctis said, voice muffled.

"What has happened?"

Reina turned to peer across at Noct. Her eyes were still wide, her face streaked with tears, but she looked _at_ him and concern showed in the arching of her brows.

"Nothin'." Noct said. "Just a bloody nose."

Spontaneous bloody nose. Nothing to see here. Happens all the time; move along.

His father didn't press the point and Noctis didn't volunteer more information. But when he left them to go back to sleep, Noct _did_ tell his sister. It didn't seem to make her feel any better to know she had punched him, but Noctis maintained that he was teasing her for her own good. That was what brothers were for.

* * *

 _January 749:_

Father was busy more often than not, but somehow he still found time to do exceedingly normal things. They always ate dinner together—or at least most nights they did, though sometimes their father missed that—but in addition to that there were the occasional nights of freedom. Nights when the king's schedule was free of council meetings and rulings, when everything had been read and approved, or else he had decided that any remaining tasks could wait a little longer. Those were the nights when they gathered in the rarely-used rooms of the Citadel and wasted away the evening with something wonderfully unproductive.

Tonight that something was a movie.

It was the sort of room that any of the other children at school would have coveted and the sort of event they wouldn't have batted an eye at. The room contained more couch space than the three of them could possibly have occupied if they tried and a screen big enough to cover the whole back wall. And to Noctis it was of little import. He could count on one hand the number of times they had used it in the past year. What was important was the fact that they were there. Their father sat in the middle with his feet propped on a pouf and his arms stretched out along the back of the sofa. Noctis sat to one side of him, pointedly apart, with his legs folded underneath him. Thirteen was much too old to _cuddle_. Reina lay on the other side, having stretched all the way out on her stomach with her head near their father.

Noctis glanced at his twin as the film began. He predicted she wouldn't make it through the whole movie. All the same, he was too enthralled—not that he would mention it out loud—to take note of exactly when his sister fell asleep. Sure enough, by the time the credits rolled, Reina was fast asleep. There must have been hundreds of movies that she had never seen the end of, by this point in their lives.

The king turned the lights back on with a swipe of the remote. Noctis covered a yawn with the back of his hand, still thinking about fast cars and swords.

"Time for bed, I believe," said his father.

"I'm not tired."

"You have made that evident," his feather teased gently. "And your sister simply exudes energy."

Noctis leaned forward to look at her. "I never thought someone could be so _bad_ at watching movies."

His father chuckled. It was a good sound; it always reminded Noct of bright summer days and ice cream. He couldn't help but smile in return. Before either could comment further, however, their attention was drawn by a sharp gasp from Reina.

She didn't exhale. She just writhed and clutched at the front of her shirt, dragged her nails across her skin as if she would claw out of it. Noctis held his breath without meaning to. Now and then she talked about the nightmares and, though he teased her about punching him when he tried to wake her that night the year before, he would never have wished them on her. Yet he knew from experience that there was nothing to be done until she came through the other side.

"Reina," his father said. His voice was steady and even as he reached down to grasp her shoulders.

"Dad, don't—"

The words died in Noctis' throat as he watched their father gather Reina up in his arms, talking evenly to her. It was that stern commanding tone that he used, but it wasn't harsh.

"Hear me, Reina, and wake."

She writhed against him, struggling as he drew her closer, but she didn't hit him. He didn't falter. He held her against his chest without harming her or being harmed in return.

"Reina… awaken, child."

And, against all odds, Reina struggled only briefly before settling. She gave a short, whimpering sigh before her eyes fluttered open and fixed on him.

"There, now… welcome back, my dear."

Noctis stared at the pair of them, surprised and bemused. "How did you—the last time I tried that while she was asleep she _punched_ me."

His father looked up at him, still holding onto Reina, and his eyebrows came together in the middle. Reina, who had pressed her face against her father's shirt, turned her head to look at him as well.

"I told you, I don't remember that."

"Do you remember _not_ punching Dad?"

"Noctis—" his father began, and it sounded very much like the start of a reprimand. But Reina replied, anyway.

"I… I don't know. You said you tried to wake me that night but I don't remember _anything_. When Father wakes me I hear him call to me. I can follow the sound." She tilted her chin up to look at their father. Her eyes fixed on his face and she didn't quite _smile_ so much as she relaxed. It looked as if she could have gone back to sleep, then.

"I'll be louder, next time, then," Noctis said, sliding off the couch and putting his feet on the floor.

His father gave a sigh at that, but when Noct looked over his shoulder at him, there was nearly a smile.

All he said was, "Now it is, doubtless, time for bed."

"Can't I sleep with you, tonight, Father?" Reina asked.

"If you wish it."

"Hey! What about me?" Noctis said.

"There is ample space for both," their father said.

"Nah. I don't want to." Noct said, " _I'm_ too old for that."


	4. A Birthday Celebration

A/N: I wrote this to go in the base story, but then changed my mind about it. It's cute, though, so I thought I'd share.

* * *

Summary: Six-year-old Noct and Rei attend King Regis' birthday soiree. Noct hates suits.

* * *

 _January 742:_

More often than not, the only time they saw their father was as the king.

"Hurry up, Noctis, or we'll be late."

Six-year-old Reina stood in front of the floor length mirror in their room, holding very still as Merewyn—one of the Citadel staff—worked on the line of buttons up the back of her dress. She wanted desperately to run her fingers over the front of it—it was a brand new dress and she was enamored—but she didn't move a muscle, settling instead for admiring the garment in the mirror. It was just the right blue to bring out the color of her eyes, with a full, floor-length skirt made of layer upon layer of chiffon. Down the back trailed a line of white butterflies, as if they followed her every move.

Noctis, on the other hand, sat obstinately on his bed with his arms folded, refusing to submit himself to the same treatment. He said nothing to Sandre, but in the mirror Reina saw the sullen glare he gave her.

"Do you want to make your father wait?"

Still there was no reply from Noct. Reina wasn't surprised; no reply was Noct's usual reply.

Merewyn finished buttoning Reina's dress, giving her a smile in the mirror, which meant she was allowed to twist and twirl and admire the resulting flow of her dress. The servant watched cheerfully, straightening and letting Reina have her fill of the dress before she tried to rearrange the princess' hair.

"Now I won't ask you again, Prince Noctis. Get dressed or you won't see your father. I will not take you to the king looking like a street boy."

 _That_ did get Noctis on his feet. He fixed Sandre with a look fit to burn, but began to strip off his play clothes and submitted himself to being dressed up in formalwear. In spite of his compliance, Reina heard his grumbled complaint.

"Dad doesn't care what I wear."

Either their nanny didn't hear or she didn't care to respond, either way the comment passed unnoticed.

When they left—not, as far as Reina could tell, behind schedule—Noctis wore a black suit, which looked like a tiny imitation of their father's, and someone had at least passed a comb through his unruly hair. Reina wore her dress with delight, rather than complaint, and she had sat still long enough for Merewyn to plait her hair in an elaborate braid that wrapped around her head like a crown before weaving into a tail hanging over her shoulder. Not a hair was out of place; she walked like she was afraid improper motions would ruin her appearance.

Noctis stuffed his hands in his pockets and slumped after them. He didn't complain any further, at least not out loud, but he made it clear that he wasn't happy.

They crossed the Citadel in that fashion, the three of them making a well-dressed, if not well-behaved, trio. In spite of her excitement, Reina walked steadily and gracefully. She was going to see Father in her beautiful new dress—and she had sat so carefully and so patiently so Merewyn could do her hair with the braids and the crystals. Would he think she was beautiful? Would Sandre tell him what a good job she had done, being patient and calm even though she just wanted to twirl in circles in front of the mirror and laugh? Only time would tell.

Reina had only been in the ballroom a handful of times, and none of them had really been for a ball—this was the closest they had gotten to that, as far as she could recall. The whole room was decorated beyond its usual splendor. Silk drapery accented the gold-paneled walls, dozens of long tables were draped in gleaming black and set with gold chargers and flatware. There were servants lining the walls, waiting to be called into service, and guests were beginning to form a queue to be presented.

Before any of the others entered, however, Sandre led the prince and princess to the front, where an attendant announced, in a clear, ringing voice:

"The Crown Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum and Princess Reina Lucis Caelum."

"Stand up straight, Noctis. Now walk across together—not too fast, just like we practiced." Sandre gave them a nudge and suddenly they were in the long room, walking down the plush velvet carpet that ended on the other end, where the king sat.

Reina put on a smile. She held her head high and walked steadily toward him, precisely as she was told. Noctis, who had made a show of standing up straighter when chided, kept pace with her, but his expression made it clear he wished he wasn't.

When they reached the stairs leading up to the king, Reina curtsied—the motion, practiced for years, now, felt just right as she hit all the marks she ought to have. Noct looked at her, then bowed stiffly to the king. He was beaming at them in that way that made it impossible not to smile back. Even Noctis gave in as he motioned them up the stairs and lowered to one knee to catch his son.

"Sandre made me wear these dumb clothes," Noctis complained as the king lifted him off his feet.

"Did she, indeed?"He smiled dotingly at Noct. "You would prefer something else?"

"Can't I just wear normal clothes?"

"Perhaps, once everyone has seen how nice you look in these clothes."

Noctis made a face. The king laughed. "The price of your position, I fear."

Reina watched the exchange, still standing before them with her hands clasped in front of her, waiting to be noticed. At last the king did turn his eyes on her.

"And Reina, my dear; you look very grown-up."

"Thank you, Father." Reina gave another well-practiced curtsey. Grown-up wasn't quite as good as beautiful, which—she felt—encompassed looking grown up at the same time as being pretty, but it was nice. "And Happy Birthday, Father."

"Thank you!" He dropped back to one knee to give her a hug, somehow managing that all the while holding Noct across one forearm. Reina savored the hug and when he straightened she took his hand as offered, but she wished he had picked her up, too.

"Now, then. We are all present and accounted for; so begins the long procession." The king shifted his hold on Noctis, lifting the prince onto his shoulders and motioning to the attendant at the far end of the room. He gave Reina his hand back and she held tight to it as the first guest was announced.

It _was_ a long procession. For each person announced there was a name and a title and a long walk up the carpet; their father nodded to each one, looking mountainous and kingly from where Reina was standing. He talked to them while the guests entered, distracting young minds with whatever he could think to.

In spite of that, Noctis lost interest not but fifteen minutes in.

"This is boring," he complained.

"Would you prefer to wait somewhere else? Ignis is here, I believe—I can send you with him, instead," the king suggested, not in the least put off by his son's disinterest.

"Yeah. I like Ignis much better."

The king smiled, motioning to Sandre—who stood off to one side—between guests. He shifted Noctis off his shoulders, putting the prince's feet back on the ground.

"Will you kindly take Noctis to young Ignis? And let him change clothes if he wants—he is merely a child."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Sandre curtsied.

"Would you like to go with them, Reina?" the king asked, bending to look at her.

"No, Father, I want to stay," Reina said. Maybe it was boring, but if Father could do it, she could, too. She would _prove_ she could do it.

"As you wish," he smiled. "Thank you, Sandre. That will be all."

Sandre took Noct away to find Ignis and Reina was left alone with her father—or as alone as they could be, in such a public place. She felt a surge of excitement at that. When it was just the two of them she wasn't second to Noctis, because Noctis wasn't around to be first. Father was looking at her, now, with his hands on her shoulders, big enough to cover half of each arm.

"My little girl—more grown up than you have any business being."

Reina beamed, thrilled with being the sole object of his attention, if only for a few moments. Of all the things he might have called her, she loved that title most.

"Are you too grown up to be picked up?"

"No, Father," Reina giggled.

"Excellent! For that is just what I intend to do."

He tucked his hands under her arms and swept her off her feet, spinning her around once—much to her delight—before settling her in his arms. Once they were ready, the procession resumed.

"Do you not find it boring?" He asked, picking up the conversation to keep it from becoming that way.

"I don't mind, Father." Nothing was boring enough to convince her to give up that time with him. They could have been doing nothing at all and she wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else.

He looked searchingly at her for a moment before returning his gaze to the approaching courtiers. "I find it amazing and impossible, how very different the two of you are. How do you find _your_ dress?"

"I like it—it has butterflies!"

Her father looked as she twisted and showed him the little white cut-outs.

"So it does! Well! You look very pretty."

Reina's whole face lit up; she had been bright, before, but now she was a sunbeam in an Insomnian winter. "Thank you, Father!"

He smiled and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

"Now watch," he said, turning back toward the doors—they had missed at least three different names in their conversation, but somehow the king had managed a nod for each person that approached. "The Duke of Auriga has the silliest nose I have ever seen on a person."

Reina giggled.

That was how the rest of the procession went, with Reina sitting quite still in her father's arms, looking happier than ever, as he said little things to make her laugh and keep her entertained. He needn't have bothered. She would have been content just to be there; _how_ Noctis could trade time with Father for playing with Ignis she couldn't fathom. She would never.


	5. A Very Unmerry Birthday

Summary: Regis is held up on the twins' thirteenth birthday, in spite of promises to spend the day with them. Reina always waits, but that doesn't mean she's happy about it.

* * *

 _30 August, 748:_

"I'm done."

Reina looked up from her book. Noctis was standing by the window, looking out, but he turned to look at her after a moment.

"I'm not gonna wait any longer. He's not gonna show up anyway. Might as well have some fun instead of wasting the whole day." He crossed to his bed and sat down to pull on his boots. Reina didn't move. She remained sitting on her own bed with the book of music propped against her knees and watched him.

"Where are you going to go?" She asked.

"Dunno. Probably go out with Ignis and actually get to have a birthday dinner. You coming?"

Reina shook her head. Her brother was doubtless correct: when Cor interrupted breakfast on the prince and princess' birthday to pull their father away, it was a recipe for a long day in the king's schedule. But she couldn't bear the thought of him returning after that long day to find that no one had waited for him. It was bad enough that his son would be gone, when what he wanted most was to savor what time there was for them. No, she couldn't leave.

"Suit yourself," Noct shrugged and headed for the door. "I'll bring you home a birthday present. Dad probably forgot, anyway."

"Have fun," Reina said.

"That's the plan."

He left, leaving Reina alone in their room. She sighed, dropping her gaze back to the bars of music in front of her, but her eyes didn't move across the page, her fingers didn't tap out rhythm or holds. Eventually she reached for her phone and scrolled through her music, choosing a playlist and projecting the classical music from the wireless speaker across the room.

Her violin sat on the foot of her bed and she lifted it to hold across her chest as she dropped back to lay flat, staring up at the ceiling. Her fingers braced against the neck of the instrument, automatically picking out the correct position. They followed along with the song, automatically without being told.

It distracted her for a time, but was ultimately insufficient. She reached for her phone again, chose a new song, and turned the volume up. She string notes filled the room but not her mind. There was that inescapable disappointment inside her that she needed to drown out. Perhaps it would have been wiser to follow in her twin's footsteps and let disinterest take the place of disappointment. Noctis had stopped hoping their father would actually follow through on his promises years ago, but Reina never could.

She turned the volume higher until every thought in her mind was overpowered by the sound. Too loud to think. Too loud to feel. Then she turned it up higher, until her ears ached with it. She dropped her phone back on the bed and continued to follow the song on her own violin, leaving her bow untouched but holding the strings just so.

The princess worked through a full concerto that way, in all three movements, before someone came to the door.

"Your Highness!"

Reina opened her eyes and turned her head toward the open door. Agnys was there, looking sorely disapproving. Reina wondered how many times she had called before she was audible over the music. She turned the volume down.

"Far be it from me to disapprove of your music choice, Your Majesty, but the volume is disruptive. I realize that you are disappointed about His Majesty's absence; all the same, I must ask that you behave more fittingly. Your are a princess and you must learn to take these things with grace," her governess said.

Reina wanted to tell her just what she could do with her grace and good-manners.

"Yes, Mistress," Reina intoned, instead.

"Thank you, Princess. Perhaps you could try your hand at practicing Uematsu's work, instead of trying to drown yourself in it."

"Yes, Mistress."

She left. Reina sighed and turned back to stare at the ceiling, but she didn't turn the volume back up. She should have gone with Noctis. Perhaps it wasn't yet too late…

But the thought had hardly crossed her mind when she stamped it out. The likelihood was that their father wouldn't return at any reasonable hour. But on the off chance that he did, she would stay. The disappointment she felt at whiling away her thirteenth birthday staring at the ceiling was surely insignificant compared to the disappointment the king would feel if he returned to find that neither of his children had waited.

The new volume of her music was insufficient for distraction. Reina dragged herself to her feet, picking up her bow, and took up Noctis' vacated position by the window. She hit the power button on the speaker as she passed. At the window she put the violin to her shoulder and fixed her posture to be just so; it was easy to fall into the stance after countless hours of having it drilled into her brain. It felt _right_.

She played.

Her fingers chose the first melody that came to mind, fiery and complicated, enough to push all other thoughts from her mind because if she didn't devote absolute concentration to it then it would fall completely to pieces. She shut her eyes and let the notes fill the space behind her eyelids. She could hear each stroke before she played it, and when her instrument _did_ form the sounds, they blended together seamlessly, one note to the next. It had always seemed like magic, the way a series of dots on a page could turn into something so magnificent. To listen to it—to feel it—one would never have thought to go backwards and turn that moving experience into something so mundane as notes.

It was more or less the only magic Reina could do.

She lost herself in it. She played that piece over and over again, restarting each time her bow struck the wrong cord, until it was perfect in her ears. Then she played it again so she could find something wrong with it.

Agnys didn't return to tell her she was making too much noise, perhaps because such a claim was unjustifiable. Her lone violin couldn't disrupt the Citadel, though it was just possible that the pure irate energy pouring out of her room could.

Many days when she practiced, though she never noticed, there was a small gathering of servants in the hall outside, taking delight in the music. Today the restless notes of her violin sent them fleeing: all but the Crownsguards who were required to remain outside her door. Likely they all knew why. It was hardly a secret that the day was the prince and princess' birthday; it was also clear that, in spite of this, the princess was alone through the day. Word travelled fast in the Citadel; fast enough that likely all the servants had heard about their interrupted breakfast that morning, as well.

So the princess played and the household staff avoided her for all they were worth. Her fingers grew stiff and sore, her fingertips red and raw; her back ached from maintaining the posture, her arm from the rapid motion of her bow. In spite of those things, she might have gone on playing until it was simply impossible to continue any longer. Luckily enough, she was spared from bloodied fingers on her birthday.

* * *

"Your Majesty."

Regis paused in the hall as his daughter's governess bowed to him. Usually he would have been in too much of a hurry to engage her in conversation—he had just spent the vast majority of his childrens' birthday in an emergency council meeting following intelligence of Niflheim's motion on the border and was eager to be reunited with them—but even from all the way down the hall he could hear the staccato notes of a violin echoing.

"Agnys—is that my Reina, I hear?" He asked. Admittedly, he had missed more than a few of her little musical performances—indeed, he had missed more than he cared to admit in the past several years—but it still seemed absurd and astounding that his little girl was capable of drawing such sounds from a carved bit of wood. She was such a tiny little girl, always so calm and content, so pliant; yet the sounds drifting from down the hall were fire and emotion, loud and bold and everything else he never would have thought to describe his daughter as.

The governess hesitated for but an instant. "Ah—yes, Your Majesty. She has been… emotive all day."

Regis winced inwardly. "My fault," he said.

"I daresay she understands, Your Majesty."

If it had been anyone except for Reina, Regis would have called out the lie. And yet, at twelve—no, thirteen, now—his little princess was one of the most calmly understanding people he had ever met. He could not name a single time that she had held his absence against him or grown angry with anyone else over unexplained actions. It was unnerving.

"Yes, well. I shall do my best to make amends, all the same," Regis said. "Thank you, Agnys."

"Of course, Your Majesty." She bowed and he was on his way.

The farther he moved down the hall the louder the music grew. It was beautiful and complex; even knowing very little about the violin he could tell that much.

The Crownsguards outside Reina's open door were looking uneasy, but when they caught sight of him the look vanished. They bowed.

"Your Majesty," they greeted.

"She'll be pleased to see you, Sire," said one.

"And the rest of us will be pleased for some quiet," the other added. His counterpart elbowed him in the ribs. "Begging your pardon, Your Majesty. Just that she's been playing that same piece for hours and it's put us all on edge."

"It is quite alright," Regis said. He never had the opportunity to listen to Reina for long enough to ever grow tired of the sound of her violin and he envied those who had. This piece that she played, however, was tense and sharp; he couldn't blame them for not wanting to listen along for hours on end. All the same, it did interest him to note the sound she had chosen to express herself, that day. It did nothing to lessen his guilt.

The king slipped in through the open door and paused, not making a sound. For a moment he simply watched. Reina stood by the window, her black hair austere against the sapphire of her dress. Her whole body moved with the music she called from the little violin; a crease lingered between her brows—concentration and emotion—and her arm moved in a blur of motion.

He watched until her bow struck the wrong cord and she made a sound of annoyance, her face contorting in irritation as she dropped her arms.

"Hellfire and damn—Father!"

She stopped midway through the curse as she caught sight of him at the door. Her expression changed from frustration to shock and regret faster than he thought possible.

"I'm so sorry—I didn't—"

He silenced her with a motion and a smile. If she thought he was going to scold her on her own birthday just for swearing when he had been irresponsibly absent all morning then she was sorely mistaken.

At his own smile her expression changed again. It shifted from shock to joy, a smile lighting her sweet features and brightening her whole face. He closed the distance across her room and wrapped her up in a hug. Reina smiled broadly, hugging him back in spite of the violin she still held.

"I didn't know if you would come back," she admitted, looking up at him.

"Reina, my dear, I will _always_ come back; it just remains an issue of how long it will take and how much time will remain, after."

Her smile didn't falter. "Well I didn't know if you would come back today, then."

"And yet, you waited anyway," he observed.

"Of course, Father," Reina beamed. That was just like her. He had disappeared in the middle of her birthday breakfast, left her to wait for an indeterminate amount of time when she should have been off having a wonderful day, and yet she met his return not with annoyance but with delight. She was so bright he didn't think even a bucket of cold water could have doused her.

"Your brother, I take it, did not."

Her smile did waver at that. "I'm sorry, Father—I tried to get him to stay with me, but he wouldn't wait."

Regis pressed a finger over her lips to halt her apology. "The fault is my own. Certainly not yours."

That was just the way it had been for a few years, now. Once, Noctis had been eager enough to wait as well, had still believed that his father would return home at a reasonable hour. But as he grew older and the unexpected absences never stopped he had learned to stop waiting. Regis had expected it, but knowing it would happen didn't make it any less painful. Watching his own son drift away from him, despite his best intentions and his love for the boy, was unavoidably uncomfortable. Perhaps it had been the same for Regis' own father when he had inevitably done the same.

And yet, Reina was still there. In all likelihood she would drift away as well, just like Noct, just like Regis, just like every other royal child before her. She was still only thirteen, after all. By now, though, he couldn't help but hope that she never would. To have it happen with one child was bad enough, but still, whenever he returned for them, his little princess was waiting faithfully for him, with a smile too big for her little face to hold.

"He went out with Ignis," Reina said. "I'll text him—he'll come back."

She pulled away to set down her violin and retrieve her phone from her bed. Regis lowered himself onto the window seat, waiting but not holding out hope. In spite of everything she was still worried that he would be upset over Noctis' absence. It was her birthday and she was worrying about him. That was just Reina, through and through. He _was_ disappointed, of course, but it doubtless couldn't hold a candle to their disappointment when he had been called away that morning.

After a moment, Reina made a face and looked up from her cell phone.

"He says he'll be back after dinner… if you're still here." She looked apologetic, like she was ashamed of just relaying his message. "He's not really mad at you," she asked to add. "He just pretends not to care so that… he's less disappointed. I'm sorry, Father…"

"Reina," Regis motioned to her, holding out his hands. She crossed to him and let him pull her into another hug, folding into his lap. "You do not need to worry about your brother's absence—nor apologize for it."

"But aren't you upset that he left?"

Oh, Reina. Sweet Reina. When her brother had cried as a toddler she had patted his head and given him a hug and otherwise remained quiet and impassive. Nothing had changed. Noctis complained about his schoolwork, objected to his meal choices, withdrew from people and hid away. Reina accepted everything gracefully, never complaining; she was open and prompt and friendly, she smiled and she did everything just so. He tried so hard for Noctis. Noctis, his son, the boy he would have given everything for. And yet, Reina gave freely everything that Noct made Regis work for.

"Indubitably, I am disappointed not to be able to spend this time with him. But I am here, now—as are you—and it seems a waste to spend this time worrying about something we cannot change."

She didn't look convinced, but she didn't object. He smoothed her hair back and smiled at her. "Since you have waited so wonderfully, I think we would be remiss not to reward you."

Reina smiled brightly up at him: that pure, joyous expression full of teeth and sunshine that only a child could muster. "I'll always wait for you, Father."

He smiled in return. That day he thought it was a lie; not an intentional one, certainly, but a promise that would inevitably be broken in the future. He didn't learn the truth of it for a long time: that she _would_ always wait for him, even long after the time when there was any possibility of his return.


	6. Ice Cream and Politics

A/N: This was in the first draft of _Fractured_ , but cut and replaced with (better) scenes of Reina actually in council. As with all the other draft 1.0 scenes, it's a bit older and so I'm not overall happy with the writing, anymore.

* * *

Summary: A day at the mall turns into a (brief) political discussion.

* * *

July, _750:_

It was always a hassle to leave the Citadel. Or at least, it was a hassle to leave the Citadel in the approved way. Noctis would just as well have snuck out through the open panel in the gardens, but Reina wouldn't stand for that. Everything had to be clean and above board with her. No unscheduled or unsupervised excursions. No potential for making their father mad—that was the real motivator. And so if Noctis wanted to go anywhere _with_ his twin, it had to go through all the proper channels and then they ended up with a couple of Crownsguard following them around all day. Not exactly his idea of a fun time.

All the same, that was what happened.

Going to school was slightly less tedious. Ignis picked them up and dropped them off and that was more or less the closest things came to having an escort. The same couldn't be said for going out in the city. First they had to tell their father or—if he was indisposed—someone else who would take responsibility for making sure they were home on time. Then they were assigned a car and a guard or two. It took nearly half an hour for something Noctis could have done in a minute. The end result, today, was a car driven by Ignis and occupied by an extra pair of bodies. Noctis made Reina sit in the back between them. She was smaller, anyway, he insisted.

In fact they were much the same size, for the time. It was made all the more evident when they walked side by side through the shopping centre, casually bumping shoulders as the Crownsguard followed them like shadows. For a time she had actually been taller than him. Since then she had stopped growing and he had started. Noct was just waiting until he could _honestly_ say she was smaller than him.

"Should have just gone. No one would have noticed." Noctis buried his hands in his pockets, pointedly not looking over his shoulder at their escort.

"Right. No one would notice when the prince and princess disappear for a few hours," Reina glanced over her shoulder. "Ignis would have. Wouldn't you, Ignis? I think he has an extra sense for detecting when you sneak out, Noct."

"Quite so, Your Highness."

"Ugh, stop, Ignis," Noct groaned. Even if Reina didn't care about the formality _he_ did, and he wasn't going to tolerate it on her behalf.

"He doesn't call you 'Your Highness'," Reina said.

"Most likely because Noctis reacts as so if I do," said Ignis. "While you, yourself, react not at all. It does rather leave me to guess at your preference."

Reina turned to grin at him, walking backwards beside Noct for a few paces. "You can call me Reina. I think you've earned it."

Noct made a sound of annoyance, "Sounds like you actually appreciate being bowed to and Your-Highnessed. I always knew you were the weird one."

Reina ignored him, as she often did. Instead she held her hand out to Ignis.

"Come walk with us, Ignis, I can't trust Noct to tell me if I'm going to walk into something and I don't want to talk over my shoulder to you."

Ignis complied, falling into step with them as Reina turned back around. He allowed Reina to take his arm without comment. Noct, however, glared at her when she did the same to him.

"Go away," he said.

"I can't, we're supposed to stay together," she said, smiling innocently at him.

She didn't release his arm. At least not until something caught her eye and she let go of both of them to duck out of line. Noct turned, slowing. Probably it was some dress in a window. Then she would want to go in and try it on and Noct would be left idling with Ignis while she tried on twelve more.

Except it wasn't a dress. It wasn't even clothes. It was a _newspaper_.

" _That's_ what they printed?" She picked one off the stack and unfolded it, eyes skimming the front page.

Noct had stopped walking; their little entourage of guards stopped as well. Over her shoulder he read the headline: _Outlanders Flood Insomnia_. Beneath was a picture of the outskirts of the city, packed with people.

"What's wrong with it?"

Reina gave him a long-suffering look. "Really, Noct. _Everything_. The subject, the choice of words, the image—they could have printed a story about recent skirmishes with Niflheim in the outlands, or about how these people just lost their home to the empire and the Crown City is the only place they have left to go, or that father welcomed them with open arms, but no. They chose to write about how _taxing_ it is on the people already living in Insomnia. And calling them outlanders? That just increases the feeling of otherness surrounding them. They're just as Lucian as we are, but because they're not from the city they're outlanders."

Noct was wondering when she would need to stop to breathe. Eventually she _did_. There were half a dozen questions on his mind—the first and foremost was ' _what?',_ but he chose not to voice that one.

"What skirmishes?" He took the newspaper from her, glancing over the front article, deciding it wasn't worth reading, and putting it back on the pile.

"The ones with _Niflheim_. The little fights have been getting closer to Lucis for years. Now they're hitting the towns on the outskirts."

"Why do _you_ know about this?" Noct said, beginning to walk once more. He wanted to ask why she cared, but he wasn't committed to picking a fight so early in the day.

Reina fell into step between him and Ignis once more. She gave him a look like she couldn't believe he was asking.

"I believe Her Highness has taken to attending council meetings with His Majesty," Ignis said.

"Her Highness has been attending most council meetings for six years," Reina said. "But it's true I mostly slept through them at first."

"Sounds boring," Noct said, putting his hands back in his pockets and letting his eyes wander along the shops they passed. "Ice cream?"

"Some king you'll be," said Reina. She didn't object to the ice cream suggestion, which Noct took as approval. He adjusted their course accordingly.

"You should come some time, Noct. You could learn a lot. Sometimes Father lets me participate, now. Well…" She paused. "Sometimes he makes me participate. But that's because it's important."

Noctis glanced sidelong at her. He couldn't decide what was worse: that his sister seemed genuinely interested in politics, or that she wrote off Dad's insistence as being in her best interest.

"I'll pass, thanks," Noct said as he stepped into the ice cream parlor. "Better things to do with my time."

Reina rolled her eyes, "But of course. Video games are _so_ much more important than the state of our kingdom."

"That's the smartest thing you've said all day."


	7. Moving Out

A/N: Also a _Fractured_ 1.0 scene.

* * *

Summary: Noctis' perspective on moving out.

* * *

 _31 August, 752:_

For his sixteenth birthday, Noctis was given a sword. For his seventeenth he got freedom. Sweet freedom.

The Citadel had always been a more like a prison than a home. The only thing that made it bearable was his family and sneaking out. Though, strictly speaking, the later hadn't really made the _Citadel_ more bearable, it had just made life more fun.

But now he was seventeen and his father had agreed to let him move into an apartment outside of the Citadel. His _own_ space, for the first time in his life. A door that no one else could open unless he wanted them to. No one butting in when they had no business to. No one telling him when he could or couldn't leave. It sounded like paradise.

"What are you going to do with all this space?" Reina dropped a box on the new couch and stood in the middle of the room looking around.

"Lounge."

His sister quirked a smile at him.

"Jealous?" he asked.

Reina had declined the offer to move out with him. Noctis might even have considered sharing an apartment with her, so long as she had her own room with a door so she didn't wake him up, anymore. Then again, that hadn't happened for a long time. It must have been a year, at least. Maybe more.

"Not really. You know you have to feed yourself now, right?"

"Eh. That's what Ignis is for," Noctis open the box and pulled out a comic. He flipped idly through it, jerking his head toward Ignis as Ignis walked through with more boxes.

Ignis sighed, setting his burden down on the floor and dusting off. "That _is_ what you're expecting, isn't it?"

"That's what's going to happen," Noct said.

"As much as I hate to agree with my brother, he's probably right. You're too nice, Ignis," said Reina.

"I'm afraid he would die if I stopped," said Ignis.

Reina looked at Noct seriously. "Hmm… you're probably right. Especially out here. He can't be trusted to survive on his own. I don't know _what_ father was thinking."

Noctis gave his twin a carefully measured push so she fell back onto the couch. "Shut up."

Reina laughed. Ignis shook his head and went back out to get another box. For a time it was a constant flow of people through the apartment. All of the larger items were already in place—they had been from the start. The apartment and furnishings had been arranged for him and all Noct had to do was choose what to bring and what to leave in the Citadel indefinitely. It wasn't as if he couldn't go back. Not that he wanted to.

Eventually the flow of people and boxes stemmed; motion turned toward unpacking and arranging. The others stayed for a time before leaving one by one for various reasons until Noctis was left with just his sister helping him to arrange shelves and unpack a new kitchen's worth of supplies.

"So… are you going to miss me?" Reina asked, stacking another empty box on the pile by the door.

Noctis scoffed and glanced over his shoulder at her. "Me? Miss _you_? Not likely."

Reina grinned. Noct made the mistake of turning his back to her again. There wasn't enough time to react, once he realized what she was going to do. At least, not enough time to get out of the way. She jumped on his back, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and bending her knees so he was forced to support her entirely. Noctis groaned, grabbing her arms and leaning forward to keep her from sliding off.

"This is why I'm moving out," he said, turning his head to look at her.

She was still smiling. Determined to change that, Noct leaned farther forward, grasping her shoulders and flipping her onto his newly made bed. It didn't erase the grin on her face, though she did scream a nonsensical objection.

"No more sister to tell me to follow the rules. No more sister waking me up in the middle of the night with bad dreams. No more sister following me home from school with a whole flock of giggling girls." Noctis put his hands on the bed on either side of her head, leaning over and looking down at her upside down face. "I can taste the freedom already."

"Who is going to help you with your homework?"

"I'll send it home with Ignis. He can bring it to you." Noctis dropped onto the bed beside her, laying on his back with his head near hers but flipped in the opposite direction.

"I said _help_."

"Doing is helping."

Reina rolled her eyes at him. For a moment she was quiet again. Noctis looked up at the ceiling. It was strange to have a different ceiling over his bed after seeing the same one for his whole life. That seemed like a strange thing to think about, but it was what his mind fixed on all the same. At length his sister spoke again.

"We've never _not_ shared a room."

He glanced at her, then back up at the ceiling. "Yeah… I guess… we've never really been apart for more than a day, before."

It felt a little more weighty when he thought about it that way. Sure, they spent most days doing completely different things, these days. He saw her at school but they didn't always talk or interact. She had her friends and he had his. But at the end of the day they both always came home to the same room. They didn't have deep conversations or share all the details of their day or anything like that, but they didn't have to. The day ended with them reconnecting like they'd never been apart. And now… it wouldn't.

The closest they had come to that sort of separation was after the accident when Noctis had slept for days. And that wasn't really the same. She had been there. He'd woken up and she was there.

Reina turned her head toward him. She wasn't smiling anymore; instead, her eyes were glassy with tears.

"Will you miss me?" She asked again.

Noctis made a noncommittal sound. She gave a tearful laugh. He didn't need to tell her that he would; she already knew it.

"It's not like we're not going to see each other," Noctis said. He could pretend it was for her benefit, but he wanted to assure himself just as much. "There's school and I guess I'll have to come for dinner sometimes when Ignis isn't around to cook, and you'll have to come over to do my homework for me _at least_ once a week."

She laughed again, but it was as melancholy as it was amused. "I'll come… if you promise not to cook for me."

"I'll get Cup Noodles."

"Deal."


	8. Midwinter Magic

A/N: I wrote this during the holiday season when I was feeling festive. I still think it's pretty cute.

* * *

Summary: Twelve-year-old Iris wants to give Noct and Reina a Midwinter present. To do that she has to conscript her father, extort the king, and unleash her secret weapon on Cor.

* * *

 _21 December, 752:_

"Iris! What are you doing here?"

She _would_ run into him. Of all the times, while sneaking through the Citadel, halfway across Insomnia from where they were supposed to be meeting, Gladiolus would still find her.

Not that she was doing anything wrong, strictly speaking.

"Gladdy!" She fixed him with a smile, knowing that even the unexpected would be instantly forgiven if she smiled sweetly enough. "I came to see Reina. I wanted to wish her a happy Solstice Eve."

And also, if Noctis _happened_ to be around, hanging out with his twin…. Well, that was just an added plus, wasn't it? Not her intention, at all. Obviously. Why would she be looking for Noctis? Silly.

"Do you know where she is?" Iris clasped her hands behind her and looked up at her brother with that expression of wide-eyed innocence that she had perfected throughout the years. It seemed to do her credit that day, as it usually did.

"Yeah, think I heard her in the second floor drawing room. The one with the piano," Gladio said, folding his arms over his chest.

Suspicion averted, mission successful. "Thanks! I'll go up there, now."

"Incidentally, think I saw Noct heading toward the kitchens not that long ago…" he added, offhand.

Or not. Was she so transparent?

Iris flushed. "Oh. Well. I… uhm… I came to see Rei, but if Noct is there…"

"Yeah, I know," Gladio said casually, in a tone that suggested he _absolutely_ did know. "Just thought you might want to wish him a happy Solstice Eve, too."

She grinned. Who was she kidding? It wasn't like everyone except Noctis didn't already know. "Thanks Gladdy! See you tonight!"

She flitted off; Gladio waved and returned to his post, leaving Iris to find her way up to the second floor drawing room on her own.

It wasn't hard to find Reina, once she was upstairs. This was, in part, because a small army of crownsguards and attendants seemed to follow wherever any of the royal family went, and partially because she could hear the music drifting down the hall from the drawing room. When she did reach it, there was a small crowd outside, clustered on either side of the doors so that they weren't visible from inside: certainly more people than was necessary to wait on a princess.

Iris hid a smile. Reina was inside; from the door her profile was visible as she sat upright and stiff-backed at the grand piano by the window. The music she made somehow seemed a perfect soundtrack for the snow falling outside.

"Mistress Amicitia!"

The murmur ran through the cluster of servants standing outside as they spotted her. The looks on their faces confirmed her suspicion that they hadn't _all_ been sent to attend the princess.

"Don't mind me," Iris said, smiling. "I won't tell."

She slipped inside without another word, coming to halt in the middle of the drawing room. Reina's eyes flicked toward her and something like a smile passed over her face, but it wasn't really happy. She didn't stop playing until the song was over, then she pulled the cover over the keys and fixed Iris with a proper look.

"Iris," she said, giving that same smile: it was sweet but sad. Reina looked like that a lot. "It's nice to see you."

She meant that, Iris suspected. Dad always said that politicians were skilled liars and that Reina was _certainly_ a politician, but Iris didn't think she was lying about being pleased for the company.

"I came to say happy Solstice!" Iris said. "And I got you something."

Iris reached into her messenger bag and pulled out a little package, neatly wrapped in silver paper and tied with a bow. She crossed the rest of the way to the piano and handed it to the princess.

Reina looked surprised, but took it nonetheless. "A Solstice present?" She asked, smiling.

"Yeah—I saw it when I was out at the mall the other day and I thought of you. I thought you might like it; I know you don't get to go out and see all that stuff, a lot of the time." Iris smoothed her hands down her shirt and then clasped them in front of her. She _hoped_ Reina liked it, anyway. Then again, would Iris ever really know if she didn't?

Reina pulled the tape free carefully. Some people, like Gladio, unwrapped presents by tearing the paper off. Others, like Rei, showed more restraint; the princess unpicked the seams of the wrapping so that by the time she was through, all the paper was still in one piece. She even folded the tape over so it didn't stick to anything and re-creased the wrapping paper as she set it aside.

Underneath was a little brown box stamped with the words _Lucis Caelum Royal Family: 6" Figures._

A little smile worked its way across the princess' face as she opened the box and, just as delicately unpacked the figurines inside. It wasn't the same smile as she had worn before—not so sad and not, Iris suspected, even intentional. It was a subtle and spontaneous smile. She set out the three figures on top of the piano: Noctis sitting in a high-backed armchair looking kingly; King Regis standing beside it with one hand on the back of the chair and the other on Reina's shoulder; and Reina standing tall—in fact, a little taller than she ought to have been—stoic and elegant.

For a moment the princess just sat and admired them, that smile persisting on her features. Iris thought: perhaps she wouldn't have known if Reina didn't like them… but she certainly knew, now, that Reina _did_ like them.

"They got Noct all wrong," Reina said after a moment, looking up. "He never looks like that in a suit."

Iris laughed. Reina set the box aside and stood, crossing to give Iris a fierce hug. " _Thank you_ ," She said earnestly. "This is perfect. I adore it."

It was bizarre to hug Reina. Not due to anything pertaining to their relationship—Iris was closer with the princess than with Noctis and there was certainly never anything awkward about a hug with her—but because Reina truly was _tiny_ , and it never seemed like anyone at all should be tiny compared to Iris. But there was the princess, five years older and still the same height as Iris; when Iris had grown up her whole life the smallest by far in her family, it was strange to be the same height at anyone. Not only that, but when Reina _wasn't_ standing so close it always seemed like she should have been much taller. She looked like she should be taller. She acted like it, too. Reina was all grace and poise; Iris always hoped that someday she would achieve that level of elegance.

"You're welcome!" Iris said.

Reina sat back down at the piano and made tiny adjustments to the arrangement of her own six inch tall family. Iris wandered over to the window and watched the snow fall into the courtyard below.

"Wow. It sure is beautiful," she sighed. "It's going to be so cold, tonight, but I don't care—are you going to the festival?"

She turned in time to see the shadow cross Reina's face and immediately wished she hadn't asked. The Glacian Festival, Lucis' celebration of Shiva, was held every year on the longest night of the year. To Iris it was always ice and snow and twinkling lights: perfectly every day things somehow turned into magic. But it was also traditionally a time for family and she should have known better than to bring that up. Reina's family was often split up by necessity.

"Oh," Reina said in a would-be casual tone, as if she hadn't really considered it before. "I don't know. Maybe Noct and I will go, if we can find some crownsguards who aren't busy. Sometimes Ignis comes with us, or Cor."

 _I thought politicians were supposed to be good liars_ , Iris thought. She made a sympathetic face.

She wanted to ask about King Regis, but just from the fact that Reina hadn't mentioned him, she knew he was busy. When was the last time they had gotten to go to the Glacian Festival together, she wondered. Iris didn't get the chance to ask—though she wasn't sure if she wanted to—because at that moment Noctis wandered in.

"Rei, there's a bunch of people standing outside. You could at least invite them in if you're going to play."

Leave it to Noct to bring their pretense crashing down.

There was a sudden flurry of motion as all of the people standing outside suddenly remember what important things they were neglecting.

Reina's brow furrowed in confusion. "People?"

Iris stifled a giggle. For being so smart, she really was unobservant sometimes.

"Yeah—nevermind," Noctis sighed. "Hey, Iris. What's up."

"Hi, Noct!" Iris brightened as he noticed her. "I, uh, just came to say hi and wish everyone a happy Solstice Eve. So… uh… happy Solstice, Noct!"

"Yeah, right back at ya," Noctis said, running his fingers through his hair to put it into artistic disarray and dropping onto the piano bench, backwards, beside his twin. His eyes were drawn by the little figurines that Reina was still looking at. "What's that?"

"It's us," Reina said, shooting him a smile. "See? Iris gave it to me."

"Who's that guy in the chair?" Noctis asked, twisting around on the bench to squint at the miniature representation of himself.

"Your more dignified twin," Reina said dryly.

"I thought that was this one," he retorted, pointing to the six inch tall Reina. "They made you too tall. You're practically adult size."

"Shut up."

"You shut up."

"I—uh—I have something for you, too, Noct!" Iris said, fumbling in her bag for the second package. Her face felt hot and she very nearly dropped it when she _did_ find his present, but somehow she managed to deliver it. If Reina noticed that Noct's present was more elaborately wrapped, she said nothing: she always had been good about that.

"Huh? For me?" Noctis took it, flipping the little present over in his hands. "Thanks."

Noctis unwrapped more like Gladio. There was very little left of Iris' careful wrapping job when he was through, but she didn't care. He dropped the shredded paper on the floor and flipped the box over in his hands.

"'Lunar Rising'," he read, turning the game around to glance over the back cover. "Hey, this was on _Kingdom Gamer_ 's 'Rising Stars' list, this year!"

"I wasn't sure if you had it, already, but I asked Gladio and he didn't think you did, so…" Iris tapped the toe of her shoe against the tile floor, nervously awaiting his judgement.

"I don't—but I wanted to play it," Noctis gave her one of his rare smiles. "Thanks, Iris."

"You're welcome!" She thought her little heart might explode at that thanks. "A-anyway, I should be going. I'm supposed to meet Gladdy as soon as he's off work."

"Oh yeah, huh," Noct said. "Have fun at the festival."

"Yeah! Maybe… we'll see you there?" Iris ventured.

Noctis gave a noncommittal shrug. "Eh. Probably not. Probably gonna be playing this, instead."

"Oh," Iris said, trying not to sound to disappointed. "Well, have fun! See you later, Noct, Rei."

She ducked out of the drawing room but paused outside to catch her breath and let her heartbeat return to its normal state. The crowd from before was dispersed: only a pair of crownsguards remained. After a moment, she could hear Noct's voice from inside the drawing room. She shouldn't have been eavesdropping, but she couldn't seem to help herself.

"So. Gonna mope away the day in here?" Noct asked.

"I'm not moping," Reina said.

"Sure. Just playing melancholy piano tunes and watching the snow."

She didn't respond. Or, if she did, Iris couldn't hear it.

"You know we could go without him," Noctis said, eventually. "Ignis wouldn't mind coming along and I bet there are other crownsguards without family who want some excuse to go."

"You know I don't want to go without him." Reina's response was so quiet, Iris could barely hear it. She had to hold her breath and inch closer to the open door to catch what was said.

"Yeah…" Noct sighed.

"You don't want to go without him, either."

"Yeah…" Noct said again.

They fell silent and Iris slipped away, not wanting to be caught standing outside the door if Noctis came back out.

How interesting, she thought, that both of them pretended it didn't matter when it was clearly bothering them. Interesting and sad. Maybe that was the only way they could cope with it.

She was so preoccupied with these thoughts and a half-formed wish to put things right for them that she walked head first into a tall man in council robes.

"I'm sorry! I was—"

"Iris?"

She looked up straight into her father's face.

"Daddy!" She beamed. "What are you doing up here?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I might ask the same of you. One of us works here."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "I came to see Rei and Noct."

"Ah, yes. I recall—they liked the presents you had for them?"

"Yes!" Iris beamed.

"Excellent," he granted her a doting smile, which only made Iris' deepen. "But I noted a look of deep distress on your face and—apparently—distraction."

Iris' face fell. "Yeah…" She said, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. She considered. Her father was King Regis' closest advisor; he was practically second in command of the entire kingdom. If anyone could do anything….

"When was the last time they got to go to the Glacian Festival with King Regis?" She asked, peering up at him.

He looked thoughtful for a moment, then: "Not for some years. There's an old picture on his desk taken at a festival some years ago, and the prince and princess look to be around ten or eleven. If that was the last time then it's been at least six years."

"Six years!"

"Mmm," he said gravely. "King Regis does not often have the time."

Iris' lips twisted. "Can't you do anything about it?"

"What would you have me do?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. "Force the king to take a holiday?"

"Can you?" She asked earnestly, undeterred by his reaction.

He looked taken aback. "He is not an easy man to talk into a break. There are always more things to be done."

"But just for a few hours… so they can go see the lights together. Once in _six years_ won't hurt, right?"

He smiled kindly. "It looks that way from the outside, I agree."

Iris stuck her bottom lip out. Her father settled his hand on top of her head. "Such is their lives. The prince and princess both know this."

Iris wasn't sure that her father quite appreciate the difference between knowing something and being okay with it. "He loves them though, right?" she asked.

"More than most anything."

"Then…"

Down the hall from the direction that Iris had come drifted the sound of Reina's piano. It _was_ a melancholy tune, now that she thought about it. Before it had seemed just like the snow, but after Noct's words she could hear the sadness in the beauty. And all of those people standing outside, admiring it and feeling a little bit sad for the prince and princess. How many of them would be going out to spend time with their own families, that night, leaving the royal family alone in the Citadel, separated even from each other? If only King Regis could see how sad they really were.

Or hear it.

Iris' face brightened as she was struck by an idea. "Can you get him to come down here?"

"King Regis?" Her father asked, surprised for the second time in their brief conversation.

"Well, if he can't take a whole night off, surely a few minutes to see his kids won't hurt, right?" She asked.

Her father considered her. "What are you plotting, child?"

Iris grinned innocently. "Nothing!"

He folded his arms over his chest, tapping his fingers on the opposite arm. "You have much to learn about subtlety," he said.

"I just thought if he could hear Rei's piano, he might change his mind. It's so beautiful and so sad, don't you think?" She had never been any good at keeping secrets, anyway. Why start, now?

Her father made a thoughtful sound, tapping his fingers as he studied her. "You know, you may be right. Put him face to face with it and see if he really can tell them no," he mused. "Sometimes it takes a child to see what's right in front of my nose."

"I'm not a child anymore, Dad!" She objected.

He smoothed his hand over her hair. "Let me continue to delude myself, Iris. I will see if I can't lure King Regis down here."

"Then you'll help!?"

"In for a gil…" He sighed. "Very well. I will conspire against my king for the benefit of all."

She stuck out her pinky. "Promise!"

He hooked it with his own. "Promise. Now go make yourself invisible. If you plan to stick around, you can at least practice that subtlety I mentioned."

* * *

Clarus may have promised his daughter that he would send King Regis down to the drawing room where the prince and princess were idling—and really, what father wouldn't have promised such a thing to his twelve year old when she was looking so sweet and hopeful?—but the task was considerably easier said than done.

"Your Majesty—"

"The reports from Drautos?"

"On your desk, but—"

"And the proceedings from last week's treasury meeting?"

"Hadrian has filed them with the rest, and—"

"Has there been any development with Niflheim?"

"Nothing of note," Clarus said wearily. What was he going to tell Iris? That he couldn't get a word in edgewise? And face those sad brown eyes? It was time to be more assertive.

" _Regis_." He stepped in front of the king, who came to a halt, looking at his Shield as if he had only just seen him. "Everything is going smoothly. Take a break. See your children. I'll have someone send down some tea. It's Solstice Eve."

Clarus watched his friend hesitate, then shake his head. "You know I cannot, Clarus. They want to go see the festival with me tonight and I cannot bear to disappoint them yet again."

"Then don't."

The king gave him a sharp look. "You know full well _that_ is impossible. There is simply too much to be done."

"The kingdom will not collapse if you take a night off, I'm sure," Clarus said dryly. "It wouldn't be such a bad thing for your people to see you, either."

Clarus saw the hesitation, this time, but Regis shook his head once more. Time to switch weapons.

"Reina's in the small drawing room. On the grand piano."

The conviction that had been wavering cracked, but didn't quite split open. Reina hadn't held a recital in nearly six months; the word that Clarus had heard was that she didn't care to perform if her father didn't attend and Regis rarely found the time to do so. If only she had known how much he regretted it. The servants weren't the only ones who lurked outside the door when she and Noctis creeped away for a private nighttime concert.

"I'm going to walk away and ask that servant to bring them something hot to drink," Clarus said, pointing to a young woman who was standing just down the hall from them. "If you happen to share it with them, I believe that Lucis would hold together. If not… well. I'm sure the prince and princess will enjoy a warm drink. They'll get over the disappointment of not seeing their father at all on Solstice Eve, eventually."

Regis glared at him. Clarus gave him an innocent smile and turned on his heel to make good on his threat.

"You are a terrible person, Clarus!" the king called after him.

"No, Your Majesty," Clarus said over his shoulder. "I am the _worst_ sort of person."

* * *

"Is he coming?"

"I have made my move and all that remains is to wait and see—but yes, I believe he will take the bait."

Iris giggled. Under normal circumstances, baiting the king sounded like a terrible idea. But this was a little like planning a surprise party where you had to lure the guest of honor to the party. It was fun and exciting and, most of all, helpful. She could hardly believe they were actually doing it: trying to get the king to take Rei and Noct to the Glacian Festival for the first time in six years. What if they succeeded!? She could practically see the smiles already.

"Do you think it'll work? Iris asked, peering up at her father.

"The whole thing? I don't know, but—" His words stopped mid sentence as he looked down the hall. "Quick! Behind that tree."

He pushed Iris behind the potted plant down the hall from the drawing room. Iris yelped.

"Shh!"

She ducked behind the tree with her father not a moment too soon. From the other direction, the king rounded the corner and continued on straight toward the open doors of the drawing room. It was arguably the worst time to have a fit of the giggles, but Iris couldn't help it. There she was, hiding behind a potted plant in the Citadel with the king's advisor; the crownsguards who stood at the door to the piano room were looking bemused but the king himself was none the wiser.

Her father clapped his hand over her mouth.

Outside the drawing room, King Regis paused, just out of sight to the prince and princess within. Reina was still playing the piano. Noctis had disappeared for a few minutes to retrieve his handheld game system, and now he lay irreverently across one of the sofas with his feet across the arm, playing _Lunar Rising_.

It had been months, at least, since the king had heard his daughter play. To his everlasting shame, it had taken him nearly that long to notice that she no longer held the performances that the whole household delighted in. Now he was considering not going in at all. His hesitation was in two parts. The first part was because he could just stand outside and listen, but if he went in she would likely stop playing. The second part was because it took a certain courage to face one's children on the eve of Winter Solstice—a night that should have been for family—when one fully intended to once again leave said children on their own for the festival night.

He steeled himself and stepped inside. Reina's eyes flicked up from her sheet music, drawn by the motion, and her fingers halted immediately.

"Father!" She beamed at him. It was the look she always wore when she saw him, but he never got tired of seeing it.

Noctis looked up from his game, and even he gave a little smile of his own. "Hey, Dad," he said.

How could he have considered not going in, not seeing them? Their smiles were worth more than that. They were also contagious.

"Hello, dearest ones," he smiled, giving Reina the requested hug as she rose and half-skipped across the room to meet him. "Happy Solstice. Are you having an enjoyable day?"

It was a poor question to ask. They were both probably thinking about the festival, how they would attend without their father for the seventh year in a row. But they were too kind to say so.

Noctis made a noncommittal sound and turned back to his game. "It's fine."

Reina pulled a face at her twin before looking back up at Regis. "It's nice to have a day off," she said. "And the snow is beautiful!"

"It is lovely," Regis agreed, allowing himself to be pulled to the window, where he stood with one arm wrapped around his daughter's shoulders watching the snowfall. It was perfect weather for the Glacian Festival. Doubtless there would be such magnificent ice sculptures, lit by countless fairy lights on the streets, that night. He _should_ have been planning to admire them.

Something on the piano caught his eye and he let his arm fall from Reina's shoulders, moving to get a closer look. "What is this?"

"Iris gave it to me for Solstice," Reina supplied, coming to stand at his elbow. " _Don't_ say I'm too tall; Noct already pointed it out."

It was a miniature likeness of their family, all dressed in formal wear and looking suitably austere. It looked as if it had been modeled from the family portrait taken on their birthday just that past summer. On the surface it looked right: it captured all the details perfectly. But there was something missing that one wouldn't note unless one knew them personally. If only the artist had known how silly the subjects of his painting really were, behind closed doors.

"How extraordinary!" Regis commented, peering at the figurines. "I had no idea we were for sale."

"Your Majesty."

Regis looked to the door as a fourth person entered, fearing that he would be called away so soon. Now that he was there, he found he didn't want to leave at all.

Much to his relief, it was simply a maidservant bearing a tea tray. He had nearly forgotten Clarus' promise; at the time he had considered hitting his friend upside the head for it. Now it seemed wonderfully thoughtful. When was the last time Regis had gotten to have tea with his children?

"Thank you!" He said as she curtsied and set the tray down on the coffee table.

Noctis turned his head to look, crinkling his nose. "Ugh, tea." He shifted, glancing over the contents of the tray. "Hey, cake!"

Regis smiled, watching his son set his game aside, sit up, and help himself to a plate of cake.

"Will you stay for tea, Father?" Reina asked, taking his hand and looking up at him.

How could he ever say no? "Of course, my dear," he said, smoothing his free hand over her hair and leaning down to kiss her forehead. "I daresay I can spare that much for my favorite people in Eos."

For a time it seemed to be going quite well. In fact, Iris would have declared that everything had fallen into place. The royal family had their tea together; they all clearly enjoyed the company, and then Reina returned to her piano at the king's request. She didn't look so sad, anymore; the music wasn't as sad, either.

But when the king withdrew, inevitably, as everyone had known he would have to, neither the prince nor the princess had asked him to go to the festival that night. He hadn't volunteered, himself, either. Indeed, no one had even brought it up—they seemed to avoid the subject very carefully. And when all was said and done, though they seemed to have had a nice tea, everything was just the same as it had been before.

Behind the potted plant, Iris deflated.

"Well. That didn't work," she said, dropping to sit on the floor.

"I wouldn't give up hope _just_ yet, my child," her father said, looking considerably more optimistic than she felt. There was a glint in his eye that suggested he had caught her mischievous determination, as well. "Come. I need your eyes!"

He turned and swept off down the hall, formal robes trailing behind him, without waiting for Iris. She blinked and scrambled to her feet.

 _My eyes?_ She thought, dubious. _What's wrong with his?_

* * *

"No. Absolutely not."

"Cor—"

"Arrange an overnight escort detail for the full royal family in less than two hours? It can't be done."

What he was asking was ludicrous. People had plans for the holiday, already. All of his crownsguards were intending to be out for the night and he had granted request after request, knowing that Regis full intended to stay home. Now Clarus was standing in his office, asking for a full escort to take the whole royal family into an incredibly crowded public space and keep them safe _all night_?

"Iris," Clarus said, waving his daughter forward. "Eyes."

The girl shot her father a confused look for a moment before understanding clicked into place in her expression. She looked up at Cor, big brown eyes wavering as she stuck out her bottom lip.

"That's not going to work on me, Clarus," Cor folded his arms over his chest.

Iris sniffled pointedly. She had just been a little girl a moment ago, but her eyes were impossibly big and growing glassier by the second. Suddenly she was a harmless puppy dog who had never done harm to anyone and had only received ill from the world. He had probably just kicked her grandmother and taken away her last scrap of food, and—

"Gods damn it; fine!" Cor pinched the bridge of his nose and turned away so he didn't have to look at her anymore. "Ignis is available, so it Fulke. I'll go myself and… see if I can't pick anyone else up…. But I expect _your_ family to be close by, damn it!"

"Naturally," Clarus said, and Cor had the infuriating feeling that he was smiling, but he wasn't going to look and find out for sure.

Damn him. Damn him and his puppy dog daughter.

* * *

It was considerably harder to focus, now that he had taken the moment to spend with his children.

Regis sat at his desk and tapped his pen idly on the notes in front of him, not reading the words—not even seeing them, really.

Damn Clarus. He had talked him into going to have tea with them for the express purpose of convincing Regis to go to the festival, tonight. And he had succeeded. If it had been possible, Regis would have left everything unfinished and gone with them. Clarus was right, of course. Insomnia _would_ survive if he took a night off.

The problem was that it was too late. There was no time to make the necessary arrangements. They would need a retinue of guards, a driver and—indeed—a series of cars. The festival law enforcement would have to be informed. The sheer amount of planning that went into just three people going out in the city was… monumental.

"Clarus. Stop lurking and step inside, if you please," Regis said dryly, glancing toward the cracked open door.

Clarus entered.

"How do you find Drautos' reports?" He asked mischievously.

"Perfectly terrible and you know full well. You fiend," he added the last without any particular venom. If anything it was affectionate.

Clarus pulled up a chair and took part of his stack of papers. For a few moments they worked in silence, or at least they appeared to. Regis still wasn't thinking about politics and war. He was thinking about the festival and how he could possibly attend with his children. Already the sun was sinking in the sky. It was the shortest day of the year, after all.

"Clarus," he said after a moment, looking up. He sighed. "There is no way we could attend."

"Do I take this to mean that you have changed your mind?"

Regis gave him a pained look. "Must you be so difficult?"

"It's in my job description."

"I suspect it is not, as I was the one who wrote your job description," Regis said. " _Yes_ , I have changed my mind. Is it so terrible to want to spend one night with my children?"

"Of course not, Regis. You're certainly entitled to that."

Regis sighed. He set his pen down and sat back in his chair. It hardly mattered what he was or wasn't entitled to, at this point. "Do you suppose… perhaps they would be willing to forego the festival and spend an evening home with me."

"I think you would find them willing. Neither of them put in a request for an escort to the festival," Clarus said.

"What?" Regis sat upright. If they hadn't made a request then they didn't intend to go. If it had just been Noctis, Regis could have written it off as forgetfulness or irresponsibility, but Reina was neither of those things. "They are not attending?"

"It would seem not," Clarus said. "I thought you knew. They haven't been in several years."

 _Years_?

"No," Regis said. "I had no idea. I had always thought they attended without me."

"I believe both were loath to attend with only a portion of their family."

The king turned to look at the snow falling outside the window, all golden in the fading light. All that time he'd had no idea. In his own childhood he had attended on his own or with his mother, but here he was, depriving his children of seeing the festival lights, year after year. How could he not have known?

"I will do better for them, next year. I will make time—early enough that there is still the possibility for plans," he swore.

He sighed. At least, he would do so if his children still wanted to go. Perhaps in another year they would be tired of waiting for him. Time changed so many things and they were growing up so quickly. Seventeen already and he hadn't taken them out since they were ten. All he could do was hope they would be forgiving if he did his best this year and better next year.

He reached for an empty sheet of paper and penned a note. If he had been ten years younger he might have sent a text message, but he was still holding onto the more traditional forms of communication.

 _My dearest children,_

 _Please accept my apologies for not being able to attend this year's festival with you. My excuses must seem trite to you both after so many years; for once I should like to make it up to you. If you do not have plans to attend on your own, I would like to spend the evening together, with neither distraction nor obligation._

 _Your loving father_

He signed beneath, more out of habit than anything else, and pushed the note across the table to Clarus.

"Will you find someone to take that to them? And after… you should be on your way. I believe your own family is waiting for you," Regis said wearily.

"Of course, Your Majesty." Clarus took the note, waving it back and forth a few times to let the ink dry, and rose from his seat. He glanced over it; Regis gave no objection. It wasn't as if the note said anything he hadn't already expressed to his oldest friend.

"They'll be more pleased than you expect," Clarus said, fixing him with a level gaze.

"I can only hope," Regis said.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Clarus said. He moved toward the door, then stopped in the doorway with one hand on the handle. "And, Regis—happy Solstice."

"Happy Solstice, my friend."

* * *

Clarus could hardly believe his luck. Granted, it had been difficult to contain his delight at finding that Regis had played right into Iris' trap and, on the other hand, it had been similarly difficult not to ruin the surprise by soothing his distressed friend, but now he was on his way to find Noctis and Reina with a perfect note from their father.

He found them more or less where they had been in the first place. Reina had given up her piano and had taken to the sofa with Noctis. The pair were sprawled across it, tangled up, with Reina using Noct as a pillow while she held a book in front of her face; Noctis seemed not even to notice, so absorbed in his game was he.

Clarus cleared his throat. Reina looked up. Noct didn't.

"Hi Clarus," Reina said, giving him a little smile. It was nothing near as bright as the smile she wore when her father dropped in unexpectedly, but it was cordial. "How is Father?"

"Regretful," Clarus said, and he didn't even have to lie about it. He produced the note. "He sends this," he said, passing it to Reina.

She sat up, ducking out from under Noct's arms. Her eyes skimmed over the page and surprise settled on her face.

"He wants to spend tonight with us!" She elbowed her twin.

"He also gives instructions that you should meet him in the entrance hall at six o'clock," Clarus said. That part was a lie, but it was all for the best.

Reina gave him a curious look, but not a suspicious one. "Did he say what for?"

"I am led to believe it's something of a surprise." Understatement of the century.

Even Noctis was sitting up, now, having set aside his game. He peered around his sister's shoulder, then yanked the note from her hand and inspected it himself.

"Weird," he said. "Alright. Any more hints, Clarus?"

"Bring a coat," Clarus said.

"Right," said Noct.

"Happy Solstice, Your Highnesses."

"Happy Solstice, Clarus," the twins chorused, then glared at each other.

Clarus bowed and showed himself out, smiling. Everything was falling into place.

* * *

"Can someone explain to me why we're standing outside the Citadel in the snow instead of going to the festival?" Gladio stomped his feet and crossed his arms over his chest.

"It may just be possible, Gladiolus," his father observed, but pointedly made no attempt at an explanation, all the same.

Gladio made a sound of irritation. Iris stifled her giggles with her mittens.

"What are we waiting for?" He tried again.

"Midwinter magic," Iris told him.

"Midwinter—have you two _both_ been conspiring against the king?!"

Their father shot Iris a conspiratorial smile. "Not _only_ the king," he said. "Quiet, now. Here they come."

Up at the top of the steps a ray of light fell as one pair of doors into the entrance hall opened. From where they stood, with the snow in between, Iris could just make out Reina and Noctis stepping out into the open.

"Where do you suppose we're going?" Reina asked, looking down the stairs at the short line of cars that sat waiting.

"Who knows." Noct shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

They didn't have long to wait. A moment later, the doors opened behind them once more and the king appeared with Cor at his side.

"Ah, there you are." Their father beamed at the sight of them and Reina smiled back.

"Father!" She leapt to throw her arms around his neck. "We're so happy you could take tonight off!"

"As am I," he said, hugging her fiercely. "Are you both enjoying the snow?"

"Eh. It's snow," Noctis said, squinting up at the sky.

Reina, with both feet back on the ground once more, elbowed him in the ribs. "It's lovely. Where are we going?"

A look of confusion crossed the king's face. "I had intended for us to remain here."

"But—" Reina looked back down at the line of cars. The Regalia was among them. It seemed odd to have the king's own car out if he wasn't going to take it anywhere.

"Everything is prepared, Your Majesty," Cor said, stepping up beside the king. "We can depart for the festival at your word."

Reina's eyes widened. The festival? He had said the festival, hadn't he? She wasn't going mad? But their father had already said they weren't going. In fact, seconds ago he had said he meant for them to stay at the Citadel, and yet…

She looked up at her father, who wore a similarly shocked look.

"Cor—" He stopped just past the name, as if he couldn't decide what to ask.

"Sire?"

"Am I to understand that you have arranged a full retine of crownsguard to take us to the festival?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. I understand that this is what you wanted."

"It is, and yet I did not ask for it," the king noted levelly.

So he hadn't arranged it.

Reina glanced between her father and Cor. Cor hadn't arranged it; that wasn't at all his style. Then who…?

She cast her mind back and recalled Clarus delivering the letter for them. It had been her father's handwriting without a doubt, but _Clarus_ had been the one who added instructions to meet in the entrance hall. Yet, if Clarus had wanted to arrange such a thing, why had he never done so before? Why this year and not any of those before?

Movement toward the bottom of the steps caught her eyes. Three people stood there, staring up at the royal family. At the front of the group stood little Iris, waving happily at them.

Iris had looked so crestfallen when they said they wouldn't be at the festival. At the time, Reina had thought it was just because she was disappointed that she wouldn't get to see Noct again that night, but perhaps she had also been disappointed on their behalf, that they wouldn't get to go at all. Had that little twelve year old really done so much for them?

Reina looked up as her father's hand settled on her shoulder.

"Shall we go?" He asked.

She smiled, hardly daring to believe it was all real. "There's something I need to do, first," she said.

He gave her a puzzled look but no objection as she skipped down the steps—careful for the ice—straight to where the Amicitias stood. She hugged Iris fiercely, nearly lifting the younger girl off her feet.

"Did you do this?" The princess asked, breathless and red-faced from the cold and joy.

"I had help!" Iris pointed up at Clarus, who inclined his head.

"Happy Solstice, Princess Reina," he said.

"Happy Solstice! All of you—thank you _so much_ , Iris. It's the best Solstice present we've ever had," Reina cried. "How can I ever thank you enough?"

"Go and have fun, Your Highness," Clarus said. "That is enough."

She pulled away, rubbing happy tears from over-bright eyes and still smiling so hard it felt like her face would split. The others were waiting for her by the Regalia, but she paused when she reached them, waving back at Iris and the others once more before ducking into the car in between Noctis and her father.

Inside was warm and comfortable, but it was nothing to the warmth she held in her chest. And the night was only beginning.

She hooked arms with her family, one with her father on her right and the other with her twin on her left.

"I love you both, _so much_ ," she said, still fighting not to let the tears fall, happy or no.

Her father leaned over to kiss her head. "As I love you, Little Princess."

"Eh," said Noctis.

He didn't pull his arm away.


	9. Another Step

A/N: Another _Fractured_ 1.0 chapter.

* * *

Summary: After a night spent at Noct's, Reina is summoned to the king's study.

* * *

 _September, 752:_

The remainder of the summer drained away more slowly than it should have. Reina had spent nearly two weeks making excuses to sleep anywhere but her own, empty room before her father had asked if she wanted a new one. So she moved. Her own room for the first time in her life, where there wasn't an empty bed to make her think all the time about how much she missed having Noct around. There had been times in their childhood when she and Noctis taunted each other about what they would do with their own space: never have to fight over who got to put what where, have ample closet space because Reina always took up the vast majority of it, never have to flip a coin for first use of the shower.

And yet, they had never acted on it. There was more than enough space in the Citadel. They could each have had their own room several times over. But they didn't. Because no matter how tedious it was to share with a sibling, it was so much worse not to.

Time passed a little more quickly once school resumed and Reina saw Noctis every day. But it still wasn't quite right. Having no other time together—excepting the nights when Reina visited Noct's apartment—they took to spending more time together during school hours. It was mostly quiet. Things often were with Noct. They walked together between classes without discussing that they would do it. Sometimes she would tell him tidbits from home. But she didn't tell him how much their father missed him. She didn't tell him that every night at dinner the king looked at Noct's empty chair with great melancholy. And she didn't tell him that, in spite of his steadily increasing need for aid while walking, the king still refused to take up a cane.

Probably she should have told him that last part. But, she rationalized, there was nothing to tell. He would just think she was making too much out of nothing, like Father did.

Another late night at Noctis' apartment meant another late morning getting back to the Citadel. In the rain. By the time Reina walked up the steps and in through the main doors of the Citadel she was feeling a bit like a drown cat. Though, sleep deprived, soaked, and still wearing her clothes from the night before, she probably looked worse than a drown cat.

"Your Highness."

There was an attendant waiting for her just inside. He had not, Reina noted with a certain amount of disappointment, brought a towel with him. Not there just to welcome her in from the rain, then.

"Yes?" Reina wiped water from her face with an already-wet sleeve of her school uniform coat. That was another thing; wearing her uniform on a Saturday. Which, incidentally, meant she was wearing a skirt in arguably the worst weather for it.

"His Majesty has requested your presence, at the earliest possible convenience."

"Is he alright?" She couldn't help the question slipping from her mouth; hearing that her father had summoned her while she was absent through the morning felt a bit like missing the last step going down stairs.

"I believe so, Your Highness." That was something, at least. "You will find him in his private study."

"Thank you." Reina pulled her sodden hair over one shoulder, hiked her bookbag into a more comfortable position, and set off down the gilded hall.

"Tell him I'll be there promptly," She called over her shoulder to the attendant.

She didn't often bemoan the endless maze of hallways that made up the inside of the Citadel, but she did that day. It was always an inconvenience to have farther to walk when one was in a hurry. And traversing polished tile floors with wet shoes at any speed over moderate was a recipe for disaster. She did it, all the same. Miraculously, she slipped only once and there was no one around to see it.

Her new room was just across from her father's. Her father's study, on the other hand, was downstairs. Another walk, once she was cleaned up. Though that one, hopefully, would not include slippery shoes.

Reina deposited her damp bookbag on the tile floor in her room, passing by the desk that she usually set it on. She ran the shower until the bathroom filled with steam, peeled off her wet clothes, and took a moment to request coffee be sent up to her. That was one other downside to staying with Noctis. Surely he couldn't stay up all night every night. Although, if he did, it certainly explained why he was always running late in the mornings. But, then again, Noctis just liked to sleep. Perhaps more than anything else. And he didn't even like coffee; it boggled her mind.

The shower was hot enough to wash away the chill from outside, but she cut it short all the same. This was partially because her father was waiting for her and partially because she was hoping to be dressed by the time coffee arrived.

She wasn't.

With a sigh of resignation she wrapped in a towel: "Close enough."

She opened the door in that state. The servants were probably used to it, anyway. Indeed, the woman who brought her a tray—complete with a full pot of coffee, a single cup, and more cream and sugar than she could possibly want—didn't even bat an eye. She just set everything down and excused herself with a bow.

So Reina was left to swallow a pot of coffee and scald her mouth while pulling on something a little more dry and a little more suitable for an audience with the king. She ended up in a black sleeveless dress with a sweetheart neckline and an asymmetric hem, accented with gold chain. Usually she would have dedicated at least a _little_ time to choosing shoes and accessories to match, but she passed that over in favor of actually putting on makeup to hide the dark circles under her eyes. By the time she left, a record time of twenty minutes later, she at least _looked_ more royal. She didn't feel it, and her shoes didn't _quite_ match the dress, but sometimes one had to make sacrifices. She made her way to the king's private study all the same.

Outside there were crownsguard and two attendants. They were everywhere her father was, it seemed. She was bowed to and 'Your Highness'ed, then admitted.

The room beyond the double doors was at least as large as her bedroom. The whole back wall was made of glass: a floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall window with an endless view of Insomnia. Along the wall to the right of the door curved an elegant mahogany desk with a high-backed chair set behind it; to the left there was a fireplace, which someone had put the effort into actually filling, a chaise lounge and a matching pair of armchairs, all upholstered in black.

The king stood before the window, his back to the door. Clarus sat in one of the armchairs; he looked up at the sound of the door opening. After a moment the king turned, a smile settling on his face as he beheld her.

"Father, Clarus." She gave a brief curtsy by way of greeting, then a step forward with her eyes fixed on her father. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, indeed; you needn't worry yourself. " said the king, "How fares your brother?"

She felt no small amount of relief to hear from him that there was nothing amiss; it was almost as good as the smile. When he asked about Noct she gave a sigh and a long-suffering look. There was amusement hidden behind it.

"The same as ever. He wouldn't let me sleep until almost dawn," she complained, coming to stand beside her father at the window. "And he still has no coffee, nor food, usually, unless Ignis brings it. Also, he's still in denial about cleaning up after himself."

Her criticisms of Noctis drew a laugh from the king.

"Sounds like he's living a normal teenage life," Clarus observed, turning to look around the back of his armchair at them.

"Unlike me?"

Clarus smiled: "I'm _sure_ I did not say that much."

"Well, I trust you will have time to recover from Noctis' hospitality today," the king said, "Now, then, the reason that I called for you. How are you keeping up with your studies?"

Reina looked up at him, bemused, but answered all the same: "Fine, Father."

"You are doing well in all of your classes?"

"Of course," she responded without hesitation, still wondering where the line of questioning was going but not inquiring.

"And you have not been skipping any practice with Gladiolus?"

"No, Father." That was Noctis who did that.

"Good. Because I want you to begin sitting in court at least once a week. It is high time you stepped out of the comfort of anonymity and observed real events happening on your doorstep. There is more to this kingdom than closed doors and reports from afar." The amused curiosity had all drained from his countenance. Gone was the father checking in on his daughter; instead, where he had stood, was the king giving instructions with that same careful control he would have used anywhere else. He didn't make a request of her; he told her what she would do.

For her part, Reina didn't object—nor would she had, if even there had been space to. Though what he said sounded daunting, she was eager to try: to prove herself.

"Of course, Father. When shall I begin?"

"Tomorrow, directly after breakfast. So finish your homework now; there will be little time for it later."

That was her cue to excuse herself; the king clearly did not need anything further from her and he had more than enough to get on with without her continued presence.

"Yes, Father. I will." Reina curtsied and withdrew, mind buzzing with nerves and anticipation.

Outside, her feet took her back along the path to her room, not needing her mind to steer. It was just as well, given that her mind was presently occupied with more substantial thoughts. She had been in the throne room with her father before. Sometimes on the receiving end, which was unnerving. Mostly, though, they had been times when she was small and seeking out her father's lap with that single-minded determination that she had developed so long ago. But being requested—minus the actual choice half of things—to sit in court with the king in an official capacity was something else entirely.

Her feet had carried her to her own door while her mind was absent. She went in and set about gathering her books mechanically. When she sat down to her studies, however, Lucian history was the last thing on her mind. She tapped her pen on the desk, her chin in one hand as she stared out the window at nothing in particular. There was a lingering feeling of nervousness; a concern that somehow she would mess _something_ up and disappoint her father. But underneath the nervous tingling sensation in her stomach, a warm happiness was spreading. He wouldn't have told her to come if he hadn't thought it would be worthwhile.

She opened her book and dropped her eyes to the pages before her, settling in with a small smile on her lips.

Pride was not often something she allowed herself. But just this once, she thought, it would be alright.


	10. Poor Scheduling

A/N: Prompt-fill for HRHPrincessTricia. IgRei

* * *

Summary: Ignis' perspective on Reina and Gladio kissing.

* * *

 _April, 753:_

The whole Citadel had been on high alert for days. Ignis saw it everywhere he turned: every Crownsguard patrol was double; the Marshal was less often at trainings and when he was he was more likely to express disapproval of their progress; Captain Drautos was often seen taking part in hasty conferences; and the King's Shield never went home. At the center of it all was His Majesty. If Ignis hadn't known better, he might have said the king was utterly unaffected by it all. He remained composed and in-control, never wavering. He must have noticed, however. Even his daughter was caught up in the chaos.

The princess was who Ignis noted most of all.

Stories travelled quickly inside the Citadel and this story said that Her Highness had been in the king's room when the MT attacked. Ever since, Ignis caught glimpses of her in the training hall—with Gladio or on her own—more often than usual. When she wasn't there she was with her father. She looked harried. Usually she was so careful about her appearance, but now it fell by the wayside. More than once he had passed her room in the evening to see her asleep at her desk over a textbook.

She was wearing herself out, trying to make up for her perceived shortcomings.

Ignis understood. It had been a long time ago, but after Noctis had been attacked by that daemon, Ignis had felt helpless—insignificant—worthless. He imagined Princess Reina must have felt much the same.

Others might have tried to talk her out of it. People were fond of telling their loved ones that they couldn't do everything, but sometimes it was necessary to try. He understood that. He also understood that the best way to accomplish it was with careful planning and an excellent schedule. The day had enough hours; it could be worked out.

Princess Reina was at school from seven until two every day. Aside from that, she seemed determined to spend every possible hour in combat training. At the same time, she also wanted to be with her father; Ignis often passed her in the halls as she hurried back and forth to check on him at every pause. The royal family dined at eight every evening, and then His Majesty sat in evening council—most nights—which Her Highness insisted on attending, as well. In the cracks, after the king had gone to bed, she seemed to cram everything else; mostly that was now reduced to homework and studying. Anything else, as far as Ignis could tell, had been cast out completely in her fervor.

So Ignis had spent his free time that morning—what little there was—blocking out a sort of schedule. Her biggest problem was that she spent too much time training; it was inefficient and doubtless was doing very little for her body. Muscles needed space to rest; time and patience were both required to grow them. The princess seemed short on both, these days.

The schedule he had written would help to minimize her problems. He was sure of it. He had even arranged enough time for her to have ample rest and—hopefully—some space to breathe. It would have been nice to see her relax again. All he needed to do was consult her and see if any adjustments needed to be made.

Since the training hall was the most likely place to find Princess Reina, Ignis went to the training hall.

He played the conversation in his head as he walked. Every explanation he could think of sounded a bit awkward.

 _I made a schedule for you, Your Highness—_

 _No—_

 _I know you have been exceedingly busy, recently, Your Highness, and I thought this might help…_

She was going to ask him how he even knew what her schedule looked like. Ignis' face felt hot just at the thought. He had no way around that one. Could he convince her that he had just _happened_ to notice how busy she was, without letting on that he diverted his course closer to the training hall whenever he passed by that part of the Citadel, for the sake of seeing if she was still practicing? Coincidence seemed something of a stretch.

Perhaps he shouldn't lead with the schedule. Perhaps he should just present himself and see if she wanted to talk and then, if she _did_ want to, he could offer his help.

Yes. Yes that was much better. That painted him more as coming to the rescue and less as having been stalking her for days—

 _Not stalking. Just… noticing._

Ignis folded the sheet of paper and tucked it into the pocket on his vest. No need to bring up the difficult-to-explain truths. He would just make himself available.

Only, when he reached the training hall, he found that someone else had beat him to it.

"There's too much for me to do. I can't keep up."

Ignis heard her voice before he saw them. The door to the training hall was cracked open and for a moment he let himself believe she was talking to herself. It was the perfect opportunity.

Then another voice responded.

"Nah. I don't believe that. You'll get the hang of things, again; you learn quick." It was Gladio's voice. "You always do fine."

Ignis stopped in the doorway, looking through the crack. For a moment he entertained the excuse that he was going to wait for them to finish talking so that _he_ could talk to Princess Reina, himself.

Then he noticed how they were standing.

From the door, he had a profile view of both of them. Gladio had one of his hands on Reina's cheek, his other hand on her shoulder.

They were awfully close, weren't they?

 _He's going to kiss her._

The thought crossed Ignis' mind even before Gladio had moved an inch. Half a dozen rash options occurred to him in response; all he had to do was make his presence known and the atmosphere would evaporate. If he had an excuse—any excuse—to walk in, then he could stop it. Perhaps he had come to deliver a message from the king—except he had no message and the last thing he wanted was to worry her further. Then maybe it was Gladio he was looking for. Yes. That was much better. Then it didn't seem as if he had come looking for Princess Reina in the first place. But why would he be looking for Gladio?

They were getting closer to each other.

Ignis' brain buzzed. His heart pounded. He felt sick to his stomach.

He should have just barged in and told her… told her what? Told her that the mere thought of her kissing Gladio made him sick and angry all at the same time?

Gladio kissed her.

He kissed her while Ignis stood outside and did nothing at all, and Reina let him. She dropped her practice staff and leaned against him, the curve of her back forming a perfect arch as she leaned up to meet his lips. Her delicate hands pressed against his chest, fingers splayed, and when he wrapped his arms around her she pressed into him.

Ignis was frozen to the spot. He should have turned away—it was clear that Reina had all the company and comfort that she needed—but a tiny part of his mind was still entertaining mad thoughts. Gladio and Reina broke apart; they gazed at each other for a moment and foolish hope flickered in Ignis' chest. She would pull away. _Gladio_ had kissed _her_ , after all. That was no guarantee that she wanted it—she could still pull away.

But she didn't.

Gladio kissed her again. His whole mouth moved on hers like he was hungry for her taste; his hands wandered.

Ignis shut his eyes when Gladio's hand found its way under her shirt.

What was he doing, standing there, watching, wishing it was him? It was as stupid as taking detours just to see if she was still training, but it wasn't quite as stupid as writing a schedule for her.

He turned on his heel and swept back down the hall. He pushed past a surprised servant and hardly managed an apology.

What had he been _thinking_? He never claimed to be a genius, but he liked to think he was more intelligent than that. Did he really believe she might have fallen into _his_ arms if he wrote her a bloody _schedule_? Had he really entertained the notion for one instant that she—the _princess_ —could ever feel anything for him? She didn't even notice him. He was just her twin's friend. He was just a chamberlain. And she… she was the one for whom everything came easily. Naturally.

She was the one who had been sitting on council with the king when Ignis was still learning his role. She was the one who displayed flawless grace and poise without trying. At seventeen she held herself like she was twenty-five. She stood beside the king's throne and she didn't fade into the shadows cast by his light.

Why would she _ever_ look at Ignis?

Gladio was taller—bigger—stronger. He never _tried_ to look good, which made it all the more infuriating when he succeeded. He could do things that Ignis could never have gotten away with: the half-shaved head, long on top; the partially-groomed facial hair; the casual disregard for any formal dress code… he was everything Ignis wasn't. Ignis was skinny and intellectual and well-kempt and he looked exactly the same as every attendant in the Citadel that she passed by every day without a glance.

How had he ever thought…?

Eventually, Ignis stopped running away. He was halfway across the Citadel by then, and the hallways were all deserted. He put his back against a wall and took a breath. For a moment he just breathed, trying to make his mind come to terms with his heart. He fished the folded paper out of his breast pocket.

 _All I wanted was to help…_

He hadn't gone looking for her out of any hope for personal gain. He had gone because he wanted to see her find the time to take care of _herself_ , because he hated to see her running everywhere and never stopping to catch her breath.

Gladio could help her do those things, now. What difference did it make who did it, so long as she was happier?

Ignis pushed away from the wall, setting a course for the front of the Citadel. It was high time he went home, anyway.

The paper crumpled in his hand. He dropped it in a trash can on his way out.


	11. To Regret or Not to Regret

A/N: I think this was originally going to go in the base fic, but I ultimately decided against it.

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Summary: Gladio tells Noctis about the kiss.

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 _April, 753:_

"Noct."

Noctis turned, pulling his eyes from the game screen in front of Prompto. He might have been amazed at how Gladio could find him anywhere, except that he was always in one of a few places. It made the feat less impressive. Anyway, judging by the look on Gladio's face, he wasn't in the mood for comments on his perspicacity.

"Hey, Gladio—look, I was gonna come to training, yesterday, but…"

"I'm not here about that."

"Oh. Okay." Noctis blinked. Apparently Gladio had come for _something_ —Noct had, apparently wrongly, assumed it meant a reaming.

"I came to tell you so you hear it first from me. I'm not tryna hide anything from you. Look—can we talk for a second?" Gladio's eyes flicked toward Prompto, who had come to stand next to Noctis.

Noct, who was growing more concerned by the minute at Gladio's uncharacteristic behavior, agreed without reservation. "Sure, if you want. Give me a sec, Prompto."

"Sure thing," Prompto said brightly, though he gave Gladio a curious look as well.

They moved away, slipping out the back doors of the arcade to sit on the curb in the alleyway outside. Noctis tried not to fidget. Gladio got serious like this, sometimes, but usually it was with regards to Noctis' behavior—various complaints that he wouldn't have hesitated to raise in front of Prompto. But he had already said this wasn't about training. It didn't sound like it was about anything at all like that.

"Listen, I uh…" Gladio tugged at his hair, halting and uncharacteristically nervous. "Last night… maybe it was a mistake, but I, uh… I kissed your sister."

"You _what_?"

Surely he was hearing things. For a second it had sounded like Gladio said he _kissed Reina_.

"I kissed Reina, alright?"

He wasn't joking. And Noctis hadn't misheard.

Noct forced himself to stop staring at Gladio. His head was ringing like someone had struck cymbals by his ears. Thankfully, Gladio gave him a minute to let the information sink in. Noct hadn't even known he _liked_ Reina. Presumably he did; there seemed very few other reasons why he would kiss her. But that wasn't the strangest part. The most difficult thing to wrap his head around was the whole idea of someone kissing Rei at all, anymore. With how high-strung she had been the past few weeks, he had an inkling that such attentions were more likely to be returned with a fist in the face than anything else.

"And she didn't hit you?"

It didn't occur to him until after the words were out that maybe it was a bad question. Gladio scowled at him.

"No. She didn't hit me. She kissed me back, but then she said she had to go. I thought—I dunno. I thought maybe she liked me, too, but she didn't stay, so… maybe I was wrong. Maybe it was a mistake."

"I didn't know you liked her," Noct admitted, his voice quieter as he looked at his feet.

"Well yeah. I admire her. She's real strong—I don't just mean physically, I mean she's got spirit. She's smart, and determined—driven." He looked down the alley, but the expression on his face said that whatever he was seeing it wasn't the grimey street. "And _Gods_ , she's beautiful, isn't she?"

Noct made a face, which Gladio didn't see. Reina, as his sister, was automatically excluded from all categories pertaining to attractiveness. It wasn't exactly something he could empathize with Gladio on.

"Yeah, I guess," Noctis said, noncommittal. "So what happened? She actually kissed you back?"

"Yeah…" Gladio said, in a tone that suggested he couldn't believe it, either. "For a second. Then she stopped and said she had to go. I dunno… I haven't seen her, today. Do you know if—has she ever said anything about me?"

It would have been nice to tell him that Reina talked about him all the time. From the looks of things, Gladio had it bad. But the truth was that Reina didn't talk about him—except to say she was training extra with him. If she liked anyone at all, Noct didn't know about it.

"Nah, sorry… the only person she ever talks about is Dad."

Far from crushing him, the revelation seemed to strike some deep understanding into Gladio.

"The king. Ugh, _of course_ —she's been so worried. So busy. I dunno why I thought she might have time for… well. I shouldn't have kissed her." Gladio shook his head.

That was, more or less, the conclusion that Noct had come to in the first place. "Well what are you gonna do?"

"Nothing, I guess. Just… pretend like it didn't happen unless she brings it up. Probably best. She knows how I feel and so… if she wants... " He didn't finish the sentence. Maybe he didn't want to give himself that hope by putting it into words. It seemed a sound plan to Noct, but it didn't seem to make Gladio feel any better.

Noct slapped him on the back, "She wouldn't be shy about it, I bet."

"Yeah. She wouldn't."

The 'if' remained unspoken: _if_ she wanted.


	12. Assault with a Deadly Cane

A/N: Prompt-fill (uh… sort of…) for RavenMichaelis.

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Summary: Regis only promised he wouldn't get Gladio _in trouble_ for kissing her. That still leaves other avenues of retaliation open to him.

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 _April, 753:_

Over the years that Regis had been blessed to call himself a father, he could hardly have been labelled overprotective. Barely even protective. Save for that instance with the old nanny. And that one time in the restaurant. And that day in court. Also, potentially, that time when—well. Never mind. The point was that he just wasn't. Not very often. Not _overly_ often. Not really with enough frequency for it to even be called 'frequent'. Usually.

And so he felt full justified in giving in to those impulses, now. After all, Reina had only made him promise not to get Gladio in trouble. She hadn't mentioned anything about giving the young man a stern talking to. How could he not, when his little girl—she had remained just small enough that it still fit to call her that, even at seventeen, but he would have done it, anyway, even if she had grown taller than her brother—arrived in his room in tears at Gladio's thoughtlessness? The last time she had cried had been when Noctis moved out, nearly a year ago.

Regis may have been many things, but a fool he was not. He saw what his daughter was doing; all the things she thought she had hidden away beneath her smile, all the hours she spent in weapons training since that MT, all the nights she fell asleep at her books without completing her assignments. What could he do? There was very little, save assure her she was loved.

What she didn't need was her trainer complicating things for her. With everything on her plate—the stress and fear and worry—she _didn't_ need the added pressure of finding out her teacher was harboring a secret crush for her.

That and… Regis truly hated the idea of anyone pushing their hand up his little girl's shirt.

Alright. Maybe that was the motivator and the rest was just justification. That red, boiling feeling in his stomach, kept behind a perfect facade. She had known he was angry the night before, when it had been sudden and surprising, but when they rose the following morning, she hadn't the slightest that it remained. If she had, she would have asked him not to do anything.

So she went off to school without any further comment on the subject. It _was_ something of a scheduling squeeze to find Gladio during the time when Reina wasn't going to come looking for either of them, but he managed in the afternoon.

"Gladiolus."

He had just arrived for his shift in the Citadel. Before that day, Regis had never had any cause to find fault with him; he was prompt, he—as far as could be seen—applied himself to teaching both Reina and Noctis how to handle themselves in dangerous situations, and he seemed devoted to his role as Noctis' Shield. Would that he kept such rigorous professionalism when dealing with the princess.

"Your Majesty." Gladio bowed, and, to his credit, looked neither surprised nor concerned at being singled out by the king.

"I shall waste neither of our time with delay: my daughter is not for the likes of you. You will refrain from any such inappropriateness in the future; if I hear that it continues, you will have worse to deal with. Do I make myself clear?" Regis stood at his full height—Gladiolus was taller, but Regis managed to look down on him all the same. It was a skill, honed through the years. His expression was stony serious, his voice leaving no space for any response that wasn't 'Yes, Your Majesty'.

Gladio _did_ look shocked—and increasingly concerned, the longer he listened. When the king paused, Gladio gave the only response he could.

"Yes, Your Majesty." He bowed again, hiding his surprise and embarrassment by ducking his head.

Regis considered him for a moment. The anger wasn't quite burned off; it was satisfying, telling him off, but not quite enough. He shifted his weight and struck out with his cane, hitting Gladio across the shins.

To his credit, Gladio didn't make a sound. He _did_ wince.

" _Regis_."

Regis didn't turn his head. The voice from down the hall was Clarus'. If he disapproved of Gladio's punishment then he should have taught the boy better manners.

"That is what you earn for touching her in the first place. You will _not_ lay hand on her again."

"No, Your Majesty." Gladio's head remained bowed; there was a note of pain in his voice this time, though.

"What has he done to deserve such chastisement?" Clarus reached them, stopping beside Regis and looking between his son and the king.

"He has behaved inappropriately toward the princess," Regis supplied, still looking at Gladio rather than Clarus. Was two strikes with the cane too much? Likely he could get one more good hit in before Clarus caught his cane…

"Is this true, Gladio?"

"Yes, Sir."

"That is unacceptable," Clarus said. "For this, I shall have you confined to—"

"No," Regis said, putting a halt to whatever punishment Clarus had been about to dole out. "Leave him."

Clarus looked at him, an unspoken question on his face.

"I promised I would cause no trouble for him. Reina will have my hide if I do—or worse, look heartbroken."

Clarus continued to stare at him. Regis made up his mind and hit Gladio once more round the shins with his cane.

"What—!"

"I promised I would not put him in trouble. I did _not_ promise I would not hit him."

Torn between amusement and bemusement, Clarus finally shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "If you are quite through, perhaps we should leave my son to his work."

"Once more?" Regis asked, lifting his cane experimentally.

"It seems to me that this _is_ rather causing trouble for him," Clarus said, sternly enough that the unspoken 'no' was emphatic.

"Just one last time. For good measure."

" _No_."

Regis sighed, disappointed but overall cheerful. It _had_ been quite helpful to hit Gladio; he felt considerably better, now, and assured that Gladio wasn't going to accost Reina again. Not, in any case, unless Reina started something first. But that, he felt certain was supremely unlikely.

"Very well," he said at last, putting the tip of his cane back on the ground where it belonged. "Heed me, Gladiolus: your private lessons with my daughter are no place for your wandering hands."

He turned, leaving Clarus to either follow or sort out his son on his own. So long as nothing got back to Reina, there was nothing to worry about. _He_ wasn't going to tell her. Something told him Gladio wouldn't, either. And Clarus was well able to hold his tongue. There was no reason she should hear of anything.

Regis smiled to himself. It did a father good to beat some sense into fool young men chasing after his daughter.

And perhaps that cane wasn't such a detriment, after all.


	13. Bad Hair Day

A/N: This got cut from _Fractured_ before the chapter even went up for tone reasons. But it's friggin adorable, so I saved it.

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Summary: King Regis has bedhead. He looks ridiculous.

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 _May, 753:_

There was a tap at the door. Reina's eyes flicked toward the king, then the door. She went to answer it herself, not wanting whoever it was to wake him early.

Outside she found a servant with a breakfast tray.

"Your Highness." The servant bobbed. "His Majesty requested that breakfast be sent at six."

Reina relieved her of the burden and went to deposit it on the table beside the king's bed. She considered him for a moment, mouth twisting with indecision. Requesting breakfast be brought up was as good as requesting to be woken by six - or expecting to be awake by then, at least. All the same, she was reluctant to deprive him of his rest. In the end she deferred to his apparent wishes over her own—potentially irrational—concern.

"Father." She sat on the edge of the bed beside him, leaning over to kiss his head and brush his shoulder. He stirred, tensing and waking. When he opened his eyes to look at her, she gave him a small smile. "Good morning. Your breakfast arrived."

He gave a low groan, lifting one hand to smooth over his face before collecting any words. Reina held back her own concern, wondering again if she shouldn't have let him sleep.

"Thank you, my dear," he managed after a moment.

There was another pause, long enough for Reina to hesitate once more, wondering if she ought to stay or not. Eventually he pushed himself upright, running his fingers through his hair, and glanced at the clock.

"Have you enough time for breakfast?" He asked.

Reina blinked. In fact, actually eating breakfast had been the last thing on her mind - though she usually did. Now that she _did_ think on it, she was ravenous. She nodded.

They sat facing each other with the tray between them. He didn't reprimand her when she stole all the bacon. For a while they sat in comfortable silence; Reina focused almost entirely on abating the growl in her stomach. Once she no longer felt quite so hungry, however, she looked up at him again. The sight drew an amused smile to her lips.

"I fear the worst. What have I done to earn such a smirk?" He inquired, catching the expression on her face.

Reina lifted a hand to cover her laugh. "Your hair is all standing out at odd angles."

He sighed, giving her a long-suffering look, then set his fork down and smoothed both hands over his hair. She shook her head, still smiling. The effort had hardly even calmed the worst of his unruly hairs; they merely leapt back as soon as his hands were away.

"Nothing you'll be able to remedy without a comb. Perhaps some water. I'll fix it for you, after breakfast."

Apparently accepting that this was as good as it would get, her father picked up his fork again.

Once they had both had their fill, Reina gathered up her textbooks from the other side of the bed and went across the hall to her room for a change of clothes.

She returned to find her father, dressed in a black pinstriped suit, standing in front of the bathroom mirror. Reina stopped in the doorway, watching him run a comb through his hair in a hopeful attempt to get it to lay flat. She couldn't help herself. She laughed.

The king looked at her. The expression on his face, she suspected, was _supposed to_ be exasperation. It was rather undone by the pathetic look lurking underneath.

"You might as well make good on your promise instead of laughing at me. I _trust_ you have time," he said dryly.

Reina, still stifling giggles, moved forward to take the comb from his hand. "Sorry, Father. I only laugh because I love you."

"Lies," he said, with mock venom. "Whatever has happened to my gentle, well-behaved daughter? Daemons have taken her and replaced an imp."

She hopped up to sit on the counter in front of him and grinned at his teasing.

"You should take more care with your accusations," Reina commented, setting the comb down and wetting her hands under the faucet. "The fate of your carefully-polished appearance is in my hands."

"I daresay I could find _someone_ in the Citadel to solve this problem without your assistance."

Reina ran her wet hands through his hair until it was damp through, then smoothed everything back, applying more water as necessary. Undaunted by his threats, she retorted: "Then you would have to admit to someone else that you're quite hopeless in these matters without your daughter."

"I am _not_."

To finish off she ran the comb through his fine hair once more until not a strand was out of place. She grinned up at him, amused by his sudden indignance, and shifted to give him a peck on the cheek before dropping off the bathroom counter.

"You really must work on the conviction of your lies," Reina said sweetly, parroting his own words.

"Imp!"

Reina laughed, leaving him to sort out the rest of his morning ritual on his own. School beckoned and there was no way for her to justify any further delay to her father.


	14. An Insomnian Misadventure

A/N: Prompt-fill for a guest.

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Summary: In which Reina pouts a lot, Noct gets thrown (and deserves it), Regis goes full derp when he gets worried, and Clarus is suitably exasperated. GladRei if you squint, I guess.

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 _March, 754:_

"I've been banished."

Noctis blinked at his sister as he stood in the doorway to his apartment. He hadn't expected to find her outside his door at all that evening, but the conversation starter threw his brain for a loop. Not that he was unaccustomed to conversations that began without greetings or preamble where his twin was concerned. Just that she had never claimed to have been banished, before.

"Uh."

"Father kicked me out."

That made, if possible, _less_ sense.

"Uh…"

"Noct! You playin' this round or not? Because I'm gonna start and just kick the shit out of you."

Noctis turned and glanced over his shoulder when Gladio shouted at him from inside. Then he turned back and looked at his twin and her bodyguard, hoping that she would make more sense if he tried again.

"Uh…." Noct raised his voice but couldn't think of any words to say.

"Who is it, anyway?" Gladio shouted.

Noct didn't respond. Reina was staring at him, looking overall grumpy but not crushed, which implied that her words were at least half exaggeration. Probably their dad had, with all good intent, shooed Reina away so that either he could have a moment to himself or so that she could. Or both. Probably both.

Gladio, evidently tired of waiting for a response that wasn't going to come while Noct's brain was stalling, poked his head around the corner.

"Oh. Hey, Reina."

"Hi Gladio," Reina said. She was pouting.

"So… uh… _what_?" Noctis asked without elaboration. She knew what he was talking about. What was the point of wasting words?

Reina huffed and folded her arms over her chest. "He just kicked me out, okay? _Astrals._ Can I come inside or something? Or are you going to make me stand here all evening?"

In fact, Noctis was right in his surmise that his sister was being more than a little melodramatic. They both knew full well that the king was never going to kick his daughter out of the Citadel, even if she turned fifty and was still living with her father. More accurately, what he had said was:

"Go outside, Reina. You have done more than enough work today."

To which she had responded, puzzled: "Just… outside?"

She might well have just wandered aimlessly around the gardens for an hour if he hadn't clarified, but he didn't do so before smiling in that way that suggested he was laughing at her.

"No, my dear. Outside. Into the real world, where you might engage with real people." He explained it with an air of unending patience and just a touch of teasing: like he was hinting that he thought she was missing something inside her head.

"This is the real world, Father," she drawled. She knew what he wanted, by that point. She just didn't want to do it.

"The fake world, then," he supplied. "To speak with your fake friends or your fake brother."

She pulled a face at him. "I'm not sure if I should be insulted that you think my friends are fake."

"Reina."

"But I _know_ you've met my brother."

" _Reina_."

"Father."

"Desist with your stalling. Go out and take the night off."

She might have told him that, given a night to do with what she pleased, going out on the town wasn't really her first choice, but she never had been any good at disobeying him.

"Yes, Father," she sighed, demurred.

"Take a crownsguard with you, please."

"Yes, Father."

And so she had come to stand outside her twin's apartment, hoping to find him alone so they could sprawl on the couch and make fun of each other for a few hours before she was allowed to return home. Instead she found him with Gladio. And he wanted to go out.

"Sushi," Noctis said.

It was a declaration more than a suggestion. He grabbed her shoulders and turned her around, steering her back down the hallway in the direction she had come.

"Come on, Gladio!" He called over his shoulder.

"What about the game?" Gladio asked.

"Never mind the game. I want sushi," Noctis responded.

So they had sushi. And Noctis did an extraordinary job of prodding his sister out of her pout without appearing to try. By the time they were through eating, Reina had forgotten she was supposed to be irked. She even let Noct drape one arm over her shoulders and mess up her hair with minimal glaring.

They walked down the dark street, the prince and princess and their two crownsguards. The restaurant was close enough to Noctis' apartment that driving—or calling Ignis to drive them, as was usually the case—seemed unnecessary.

"When you get back," Noct said, "Tell Dad I want a bonus for babysitting you."

Reina shoved him off at that. "A bonus _what_? You already have unlimited pocket money!"

"I do not! I work a part time job like a respectable citizen of Insomnia. Unlike _some_ people around here." He caught her head in the crook of his arm and drilled his knuckle against her scalp.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you, Noct…." Gladio said.

"Right," Reina growled, grabbing his hand. "I just work two full time jobs and don't get paid."

With one hand on his and the other grasping his shirt behind his shoulder, she threw her hip into his and tipped forward, tossing him onto the pavement.

Noctis groaned.

"Told you," Gladio stopped walking, folding his hands over his chest to look down at Noct. "She's been working on that one for weeks."

Reina flashed Gladio a smile and combed her fingers through her hair, trying to get her ruined hair to lay flat once more. It didn't do much good. Noctis had done a number on her half-up ponytail. Then again, she had done a number on Noct, so it all evened out.

She left her brother whining on the sidewalk as movement from down the street caught her eye. It wasn't so late that there was no one else on the streets, nor were they in a deserted part of the city, but something about the man who stumbled out of the alleyway a few yards away caught her attention. Was he… injured? Or just drunk? Or both?

"Remind me to stop picking fights with you," Noctis grumbled as he finally hauled himself to his feet, rubbing his back.

"Stop picking fights with me," Reina said, pulling her eyes away from the unknown man to glance at her brother, instead.

"Never," said Noct.

" 'Scuse me…" The man from down the street approached with the same stumbling gait that he had exited the alley. The cloud of stench that followed him answered one question: he was certainly drunk. "Y'all knowin' how ta get ta Crus Treat…. Crux Treat from here?"

 _Crux Treat?_ Reina glanced at her brother, trying to keep a straight face.

"Uh… Crux Street?" Noctis said, glancing at Reina. Only the quiver of his lips gave away that he was, also, trying not to laugh. He gave an answer admirably, all the same, pointing down the street in the direction the drunk had come from. "Yeah—it's down that way. Take a right at the signal and keep going for a couple blocks."

He wasn't listening anymore, but he was still staring at Noct.

"Hey… you're the prince…." His words were slow and he squinted down at Noct, as if he didn't quite trust his swirling vision.

"Uh… yeah…" Noct admitted reluctantly.

"Y'know… it'syer dad's fault I'm outofa job…" He swayed on the spot, jabbing a finger toward Noct.

"Watch it," Gladio growled, stepping forward as Noct stepped back.

The drunk appeared not to notice. He took a sideways step around Gladio, and then a couple more, as if he was having trouble staying upright.

"C'mon, buy me a drink," the drunk said, holding a hand out toward Noct.

"I can't," Noctis said. The amusement was gone from his face. In its place was something more like nervousness.

"Get out of here," Reina snapped, stepping in between her brother and the drunk. "No one's going to buy you a drink, but if you stick around we'll get you thrown in a cell to sleep it off."

He didn't seem to hear he—or even really see her. His eyes remained fixed on Noct, over her shoulder. "You owe me a drink!" He shouted, lunging forward.

She wasn't sure where the knife had come from. It hadn't been in his hands when he was reaching for Noctis, she felt sure, but it certainly was, now. It was just a little pin knife, but a knife was a knife.

She took a step back, running into Noct and pushing him away as she raised one arm to ward off the blow. She needn't have bothered. Gladio was there, a solid wall between the pair of them and the drunk before the strike fell. Reina couldn't see around him. He was over a foot taller than her and twice as wide across the shoulders. But she heard the grunt of discomfort as he caught the other man's wrist and pushed him away.

The drunk stumbled, falling off his feet and landing in the street. The knife was in Gladio's hand. Blood dripped from the tip.

"Gladio?" Reina stepped around him, glancing from the fallen attacker up to her brother's Shield.

"Get outta here," Gladio growled at the other man, who was already struggling to do just that.

"You're just gonna let him go?" Noct asked, shocked, as they watched the drunk climb to his feet, trip, fall on his face, and try again, all the while making slow progress away from them.

"He's harmless," Gladio shrugged, folding the blade and tucking it into his pocket as he turned toward them.

There was a long, bloody line painted on his face, from his hairline above his left eye, all the way down to his jaw. It was a miracle it hadn't hit his eye. As it was, the blade must have passed just a fraction of an inch away.

" _Harmless?_ " Reina cried, grabbing Gladio's chin and twisting his face down to get a closer look at. "Harmless means _unable to do harm_. What does that look like to you?!"

"Ow," said Gladio.

"Gods, Gladio…" Noctis breathed. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Gladio said, though he held his head very still and at the exact awkward angle that Reina had pulled it to.

She continued to hold his chin in place as she inspected the wound. It looked surprisingly clean-cut. The blade had been sharp. That was something good, at least; it would heal up neatly with help, but it was hard to see with all the blood.

"You have a potion?" Noctis asked over her shoulder.

"Not even anything I can make one out of," Reina admitted reluctantly.

They could get back to Noct's apartment easily enough, but she wanted to stop the bleeding. She released Gladio's chin and he stood up straight once more. She wriggled out of her shrug and folded it up, reaching up to press the soft material against his bleeding face.

"Reina! That's _white_!" He objected, taking a step back.

"Thank you for that brilliant observation," Reina drawled, glaring up at him. She followed him, grabbing his chin once again and pulling him to her level. "Stop moving."

"Ow."

"Don't be such a baby."

She dabbed at the blood that dripped down his neck and soaked up what pooled around the cut, applying gentle pressure with absolute focus. Gladio didn't move again. She probably should have been more concerned about the crimson stains that streaked her bolero, but just then she wasn't.

When his face was mostly clean and the flow of blood had slowed, Reina released him and handed off the ruined clothing. "Hold that to it. I'll fix it up when we get back."

"Yes, Highness," Gladio said, and she couldn't decide if he was making fun of her or if she had actually cowed him with her brisk treatment.

They walked in comparative silence the rest of the way to Noctis' apartment. Usually Noct would have laughed at Gladio for being bullied by Reina, but she suspected he was worried, himself. That, and he felt guilty for having put his friend in danger. He would get over it—they all knew it was Gladio's job to step into danger for Noct—but for now he would fret silently.

They only earned a few odd looks over the blood on their way into the building before they were safely shut up inside Noct's apartment.

"Sit," Reina ordered Gladio, pointing to the couch as she passed on her way to raid Noctis' bathroom.

She sent silent thanks to Ignis for having cleaned recently as she set about gathering some suitable supplies: a clean washcloth and a bowl of warm water, and, in lieu of anything suitable to make a salve out of, a can of soda.

When she returned to the living room, Gladio was sitting obediently on the couch, still holding the shrug to one side of his face. Reina kicked off her shoes, set her supplies down on the table, and climbed onto the arm of the couch beside him.

"Let me see," she said.

He handed her the shrug and she set it aside for the moment. Probably it was past the point of no return, but she couldn't bring herself to care that much. She took Gladio's chin in her hand, turning his face gently so she could get a better look at the cut.

It was remarkably clean, though it was going to leave a scar no matter what she did.

"Close your eye," she requested.

He did as she asked. It looked like that drunk had gotten closer than she had thought at first: the red line traced down his eyelid, as well.

"You are unbelievably lucky," Reina said, reproachful—as if it was his fault that this whole thing had happened. She knew she shouldn't have been cross with him, but surely he could have done something without sticking his _face_ in first?

Gladio didn't respond. She reached for the can of soda and rolled it between her palms, grasping her magic and letting it twist up inside the beverage. It wasn't her prefered medium to work with—different materials produced slightly different results, for better or for worse—but it was what Noct had on hand.

When she was satisfied with the enchantment, she cracked the can open and handed it to him. Gladio drank without being prompted and Reina reached for the bowl of water. She drenched her washcloth, setting the bowl in her lap, and set about cleaning up what remained of the blood on his face.

By the time she was through, Gladio was clean of blood and her potion had begun to do its work.

"I think that's quite enough of a break for one night," Reina sighed, climbing to her feet to dump the bowl, heedless of the red-tinged water she had spilled on her own clothes.

"Dad's gonna have a fit," Noctis said, dropping onto the couch beside Gladio.

"Maybe he won't send me out, anymore," Reina said, suddenly bright.

Noctis laughed. "You know. Most kids get upset about overprotective parents."

"I'm not 'most kids'," Reina said.

"We know," Gladio and Noct said at once, before shooting each other sideways grins.

Reina huffed and shook her head. Boys. Protect them from drunks and patch up their cuts and they still make fun of you.

* * *

When he had given his daughter the night off—or, more accurately, forced her to take the night off—Regis had expected that she would be back in an hour or two, after having taken dinner with either Noctis or her friends in town. The fact was, and they both knew it, she was exceptionally poor at staying away.

So when over two hours had passed and Reina was still out, Regis found himself tapping his fingers on his desk and staring out the window, wondering.

"Perhaps they took in a movie," Clarus suggested, as if guessing his thoughts.

Regis looked up. His Shield knew him too well for the good of either of them.

He sighed. "Of course. It is hardly late."

She was probably just having fun. That was what he had wanted, after all, wasn't it?

 _This is stupid_ , he thought, pulling his eyes from the window and looking back at the papers in front of him. Everyone was always teasing her about not leaving his side and there he was, fretting over her few-hour absence when _he_ had been the one to tell her to leave.

He forced himself to work until the clock chimed again and drew his eyes away once more. Three hours.

"Perhaps I have upset her," he thought aloud. "I should not have been so harsh, this evening."

"Regis," Clarus said with poorly-concealed exasperation. "You could forbid her from having friends, declare that she can only eat green beans from this day forth, and behead her stuffed chocobo right in front of her and that child would still forgive you."

Regis met his friend's gaze, unconvinced. While it was true that Reina would have done most anything for him, the sticking point was when he wanted her to _not_ do something for him.

"She is not upset with you," Clarus reiterated.

Regis dropped his gaze back to the papers. Across his desk, Clarus resumed his work as well. It only lasted a few minutes.

"What if—"

"If something had happened then her guard would have contacted Cor, and we already would have heard," Clarus said, before Regis even had a chance to finish the thought.

Regis shut his mouth with a snap.

"If you do not get this finished, I will tell her how unproductive you are when she takes the night off," Clarus threatened.

Regis dropped his gaze again, hearing his friend heave a sigh before the only sound in the study, once more, was the ticking of the clock and the scratching of pen on paper.

It was nearing on three and a half hours when Clarus' phone rang. He glanced at the screen, which displayed a picture of his son, before answering.

"Gladiolus."

The king tapped his pen against his paper, not paying attention to anything in particular as he waited. He could hear Gladio's voice on the speaker, but he couldn't tell what the boy was saying. Likely nothing that concerned him.

At least, he wasn't paying attention until Clarus responded.

"And everyone is safe?"

It was the sort of question one only asked when everyone _hadn't_ been safe in the first place.

"No, I trust your judgement; you must do as you see fit. But would you please ensure that Princess Reina returns safely to the Citadel? His Majesty is being intolerable." Clarus shot Regis a reproving glare.

Regis might have returned it, if he hadn't been so worried. Reina was with Gladio, which meant she had gone to see Noct, and they had encountered a situation in which Clarus needed to ask if everyone was safe? Just what sort of trouble had he sent his children into?

"Thank you, Gladio. Good night. I will see you at home."

Clarus hung up and set his phone down on Regis' desk, looking up at the king with a long-suffering look.

"Well?" Regis asked.

"It seems your children and my son had an unsavory encounter with a drunken man on their way back from dinner. Everyone is fine," he added the last hastily.

An unsavory encounter with a drunken man? What did that even mean?

Regis gave up on work. Clarus gave up about badgering him. The king paced his study and eventually his Shield excused himself for the night, intending to return home and see to his own son. It wasn't much longer after that that Regis had to wait.

A knock came to the door and, at Regis' word, Reina entered.

If Clarus hadn't already assured him that everyone was fine….

"Reina, my dear! Welcome h— _is that blood?!_ "

Reina stopped dead in the doorway, looking down at the front of her dress. It was streaked with red, but that was nothing to the crimson-brown that stained the bolero shrug she held. She grimaced, perhaps having not realized just what she looked like before then.

"It's not mine, Father," she said quickly.

"Are you sure?"

 _Is she sure? What sort of question is that, you old fool?!_

"Father," Reina put her fist on her hip and looked reproachfully up at him. "I think I should know."

"Yes, I suppose you should…" he admitted sheepishly.

"It's Gladio's," Reina waved a dismissive hand. "Anyway, I'm going to go shower and change. I'll see you in the morning?"

Regis blinked at his daughter, taken aback. She _was_ mad at him.

"You… do not intend to tell me what happened?" He ventured.

Reina raised her eyebrows at him. "Oh. I thought Clarus told you."

"Hardly more than you have," Regis said.

"It's not as exciting as it looks," she said with a smile. "Are you ready to go upstairs? I can tell you on the walk."

"I am long since ready to give up on that mess," Regis said, pointing his cane to the papers strewn across his desk. "I would be pleased to accompany you up."

So they walked. And on the way she told him of her evening and the peculiar encounter they had on the streets. He didn't much like the sound of any of it, but he was placated by having her back home. And Noctis, it seemed from the sound of things, was no worse for the wear, either.

"Well. Full glad am I that Gladio was there," Regis said as they reached her door.

"I would have kept us safe if Gladio didn't put his fat face in the way, first."

Regis couldn't help himself. He laughed. There was something comical about little Reina, standing there with her arms crossed over her chest, looking so indignant. He hastened to explain his amusement, however, as the annoyance on her face only deepened at his laughter.

"I have little doubt, my dear, that you will always keep your brother safe. Still, I will admit to being selfishly grateful that it _was_ Gladiolus' 'fat face' that was in the way and not yours." He brushed her cheek with his thumb and smiled down at her.

Little Reina. Perhaps he shouldn't have thought of her as little, anymore—she was nearly nineteen—but he couldn't help it. She would always be his little princess.

Reina beamed back up at him. Her whole face brightened when she smiled like that; it made him wonder if he wasn't wrong about her being upset, after all.

"You're right. He'll look much better with the scar. Goodnight, Father." She leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek, which he welcomed, then turned to open her bedroom door.

Nineteen years and he still had no idea what she was thinking, sometimes.

A furrow formed on his brow.

"Reina—"

"Father?"

"Are you cross with me?"

Her eyes widened in clear surprise. It was enough of an answer without the accompanying words. "Of course not, Father! Why would you think that?"

"You seem in a hurry to be rid of me," he admitted. It sounded a lot more foolish out loud than it did in his head.

"Oh! I thought you wanted the night to yourself. You were the one who sent _me_ away, after all." She stood with her hand on the half-open door to her room, still clutching the bloody shrug to her chest and looking no less surprised than she had at first.

She really had no concept of what it meant to take time for herself, did she?

"What I wanted was for _you_ to have the night to yourself," Regis said, looking down his nose at her severely. However hard he tried to teach it, that was one lesson she couldn't seem to grasp. Even now she gave a shrug, as if she would have been just as content to have spent the past four hours working. Then again, perhaps it hadn't been the best night. "Which, of course, you are still free to do. But if you do not wish to… I should be happy for your company."

Her wide-eyed look split into another smile. "Of course I would rather be with you, Father!"

She paused, glancing down at her dress, "But I'm covered in blood."

Regis smiled gently down at her. "Then I will permit you to remedy that. And in the meantime I will await your arrival with bated breath," he teased, leaning down to kiss her hair.

Reina stuck her tongue out at him as he turned to walk toward his room.

"Do not force me to wait!" He called over his shoulder at her.

"If you hurry me I'll get blood all over _your_ room!"

Regis chuckled, shaking his head as he rounded the corner. His children were safe, no one was mad at him, and all was right with the world. Except perhaps Clarus, who had left in a state of overwhelming exasperation. That, though, would doubtless fade overnight. Then again, Regis never had finished those letters.

Gods, he hoped Clarus didn't tell Reina everything, as he had threatened.


	15. First Impressions

A/N: Prompt-fill for a guest.

* * *

Summary: Cid's perspective on meeting Noctis and Reina.

* * *

 _13 May, 756:_

So this was Hammerhead. Three buildings? No, four—and there was that shack, down the way. Every little bit counts, when it's a quarter of the… outpost. Reina might have called it a town—in fact, she expected to call it a town, when it was established where they were going first—but now that they stood outside Cid's garage, she thought better of it.

Disappointed didn't quite do justice to how she felt. Was everything outside of Insomnia so dismal? Just one more reason to make a speedy return.

But for now, Hammerhead was what they had, so it was what Reina took. At the very least, she was interested in meeting Cid—one of her father's oldest friends, right along with Clarus and Cor. When she had asked about him, the king had said:

"Cid is a curmudgeon—determinedly so. He likes cars more than people. I trust you not to get on his bad side but perhaps you ought to give your brother an elbow in the ribs if he strays too far. Deep down, he _is_ a good man. You can trust him as you might trust me."

If nothing else, he sounded an interesting character and it was intriguing to see the range of people that her father associated so deeply with, even if in the distant past. There was Clarus, abound with loyalty, quick to smile and easy to laugh when they were removed from the formality of the Citadel. Then there was Cor, stern and quiet with a sort of intensity about him that spoke volumes. And Cid…

For now, though, there was only Cid's granddaughter, who greeted them when they rolled—very slowly—into Hammerhead. Cindy was a tall, shapely blonde with more curves than ought to have fit into her clothes. She was also eminently cheerful.

Reina leaned against the Regalia, her hands braced against the dusty body, as she watched Cindy congratulate a rather bemused Noctis on his marriage. Ignis apologized for the delay, polite as ever. Prompto looked as if his brain had stopped working. Reina hid a smile, losing the train of conversation as she tried not to laugh at Noct's stricken friend.

"Roll 'er in while I'm still young!"

All semblance of conversation halted as a voice—more of a growl, really—cut through any remaining voices. Reina looked up from her shoes, which she had fallen to contemplating while she fought to keep a straight face, and fixed her eyes on Cid.

There were a few old photographs from her father's youth that she had seen—one or two that included Cid. He didn't look much like he had thirty years ago. Or at least that was her first impression. But the longer she considered him the more she caught similarities. Cid was built like wire; where her father was—or had been, a few years ago—solid, Cid was more lanky. He sported a beard, now, and all of his hair had gone near-white, but it still had that unkempt look. Now his face was wrinkled, though his eyes were just as sharp.

"Didn't yer daddy tell ya? She's a custom classic, not some beat up ol' clunker."

Reina might have bristled at the suggestion that _she_ had been involved in mistreating her father's car, but something told her it wouldn't do any good. She straightened, watching with interest as Cid ran one gloved hand over the back of the Regalia. He looked at it fondly, as if regarding an old friend. When he pulled his eyes away from the car his gaze landed on Noctis.

" _Prince_ Noctis."

Before then, Reina had been certain she was the only person who could put so much disdain into Noctis' name. Judging by his tone, she was willing to bet that her brother had already gotten on Cid's bad side. She couldn't imagine why. Apparently Noct couldn't, either.

"Uh, yeah." Noctis made it a question, bemusement showing on his face.

"'Prince'. Like they took your old man and kicked the dignity out of him."

Noctis' eyes widened: "What?"

Reina wore an identical expression, but only for a moment. It wasn't the sort of tone that people in Insomnia usually addressed the Crown Prince with. Only Gladio, but he didn't usually say anything quite on that level.

"You got a long way to go, son. And that slackjaw's getting you nowhere fast."

 _That_ sounded a little more like something Gladio might have told Noct. Still, Reina was surprised—and a little bit impressed. It wasn't uncommon for people close to Noctis to tell him he needed to step up, but those were people who had spent a lifetime with him. Here was Cid, drawing the same conclusion after an instant of contact. And Reina was willing to bet that whatever their father told Cid about Noct, it didn't include 'he has no dignity,' though that might have been true.

Cid's eyes landed on her, next. The only thing that kept her from flinching away from his gaze was three years of keeping a cool exterior in public, no matter what was going on underneath. Even so, it was uncomfortable being fixed with those calculating eyes. She preferred when he was looking at the Regalia.

The Crown Prince was a joke. Unfortunate that no one was laughing; too much was riding on him. Some sort of prophecy on that kid's back? The world sure was doomed. He looked like no one had ever even disapproved of him before. Stunned that Cid might possibly think he fell short. Someone should have given him a good licking when he was younger. Probably it was too late, now, or else Cid would have volunteered. But Regis had said 'look over them' not 'beat some sense into them,' anyway.

Them.

Wasn't there another kid?

Two blond boys, another lad with hair _almost_ dark enough to be Caelum, and a girl. If he'd noticed her first, he wouldn't have bothered looking at the others. It was unmistakable.

 _That_ was Regis' girl.

Hair black as night, just like her old man when he was her age, though she had blue eyes like her brother, not the grey-green of her father. But even if she'd had red hair and purple eyes, he would have recognized her. It wasn't in the hair or the eyes, nor the vaguely familiar slope of her nose.

It was the way she held herself. Upright, but not uptight. Some people got bitchy about it—looked like they had a steel rod stuck up their ass—she just looked like she was born standing that way. Then there was that proud tilt to her chin. That was her old man's look.

She met his gaze levelly, in spite of what he had just said to her brother, but not defiantly. She looked like she would take whatever criticism he dished out gracefully and then thank him for it, like he'd done her some favor by calling her a brat.

But he didn't want to do that.

So all he said was, "hmph," and he turned away, back toward the garage.

"She's gonna take a while. Ya'll get 'er in an' run along."

Maybe the world wasn't _quite_ doomed.


	16. Unrequited Flirtation

A/N: Prompt-fill for a guest.

* * *

Summary: Dino will flirt with anything that looks like it's probably female. Reina is used to it, by now.

* * *

 _14 May, 756:_

Reina was seven the first time a boy kissed her. His name was Bran. He was a little bit shy, not unlike the quiet princess, but he was earnest and instead of pulling her braids like other boys he chose a more direct route.

Their nanny, Sandre, had been furious when Noctis invariably told her the story after school. Reina didn't understand why, but she delivered her hand-written note to her—rather flustered—teacher and told Bran solemnly that her father did not want him to ever kiss her again, because that was what Sandre had told her.

For a long time that was the end of things. No primary school boy was bold enough to defy the king for the sake of a _girl_ , and no teacher was confident enough to risk letting it happen again. Oftentimes Reina was distinctly kept apart within classroom activities, which lead to her developing friendships only with the other girls in her class.

In fact, Reina learned much later, her father had never even heard of the incident. But that was a different story altogether.

By middle school much of the wariness surrounding her had worn off. None of the mystery seemed to have, which Reina discovered one day during the afternoon break when Noctis matter-of-factly informed her that there were a full half-dozen boys lurking around the corner goading each other into asking her to the winter dance. Someone eventually did—whether it was one of the same boys Noctis had spoken of or not she never learned—and this time she explicitly checked with her father before giving an affirmative.

A school dance at twelve hardly constitutes of a date, but it did include Reina's second ever kiss. Nothing ever progressed beyond holding hands and kissing, however, because shortly after Reina received a long lecture from Sandre about how a princess couldn't afford to be frivolous like other girls, since she had a very important reputation to uphold. And so one more budding relationship was cut short.

It didn't occur to Reina until much later that the lecture might have consisted mainly of opinions—or that her father might not share them. That didn't come to light until two years later, which was around the time that everything else began to change, as well.

The next time a boy asked her out, she and Noctis had outgrown their nanny and there was no one to tell Reina not to say yes. It didn't last, anyway. She discovered quickly that the idea of being in a relationship was much more exciting than the actuality of it.

From that point onward she admired boys only from a distance. She appreciated that some of them were attractive, that some were sweet, and that most of them were silly. Even if there were one or two over the years that she thought might be nice to be closer to, her characteristic pragmatism—well beyond her years—held her back.

He was her last boyfriend, but not the last one to ask. Each one she turned down methodically, but not heartlessly. She noticed the attention more, as well. She didn't need Noctis to tell her when a boy was making sappy faces across the room at her. Sometimes it was amusing. Usually it was exasperating.

In a few more years her free time was eaten up entirely and whatever lingering desire she might have had for companionship vanished. Boys were for other girls. Reina had responsibilities.

After her time in the university, the number of people who were familiar enough with her to have any sort of expectation of receiving her attention diminished toward zero. Then the only boys she interacted with were Citadel staff, Crownsguard, the occasional Kingsglaive, and Noctis' friends. She caught some of them at it, anyway; just harmless things, a smile that was a little too dreamy, unveiled admiration, or friendliness that crossed the border of professionalism.

Noctis' friends weren't really trouble, either. It wasn't entirely uncommon for Noctis to hit Prompto for looking a little too interested in her, and Gladio—well, he smiled but mostly kept whatever thoughts he had to himself. Ignis was the only one she could honestly claim was not interested in her. That or he was uncannily good at hiding it—uncannily, because a lifetime of experiencing it had taught her recognition.

And so, when the too-suave self-professed reporter caught her eye and dropped a handful of hints, Reina was neither surprised nor impressed. And she _definitely_ wasn't in the mood for it.

"The Crown Prince of Lucis, bounty hunting in his fancy car. Surely you didn't think it'd go unnoticed. At least not by this reporter. Lucky for you, this reporter has integrity. If you wanna remain incognito, I'll respect your wish. In exchange for a…" His eyes caught Reina coming down the stairs and for a moment his rapid speech stalled. "... _favor._ "

Reina resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She remained deadpan as she came to stand beside her brother, folding her arms over her chest.

"Princess," the reporter stood and bowed with a flourish. When he straightened one hand went to his hair, as if to make certain not a strand was out of place. "Dino Ghiranze, at your service."

Noctis really did roll his eyes. "You wanted a favor?"

 _He had better not ask what he's thinking_ , Reina thought, remaining a carefully-schooled neutral—outwardly, at least.

He didn't.

He just asked for gemstones. But he _did_ give Reina an award-winning smile as they left. She didn't return it.

"Does this happen to you everywhere?" Noctis asked, once they were out of earshot.

In fact it was so common that she had more or less forgotten it as soon as they turned away. The only thing that irked her was that the ship to Altissia was one more step away. And the longer it took them to get to Altissia, the longer it took them to get back to Insomnia. She didn't like to think about that, but she did. Frequently.

"Hmm?"

"What? Really? That guy, trying to charm you?"

"Oh, that. More or less, yes," she said calmly, climbing into the Regalia and sliding over so Noctis could follow her.

"Why do you put up with it?" Noctis asked, shutting the door behind him.

"What am I going to do? Issue a royal decree? He didn't do anything wrong."

"Guess not…" Noctis admitted, though he still looked less than convinced. "It's still weird."

"Yeah! Who would do that to a girl?!" Prompto chimed in from the front seat. "Least of all you!"

The silence that followed, the way that even Ignis took his eyes off the road for a moment to stare at him, was the only necessary response.


	17. Fish

A/N: Sort of a prompt-fill. For a guest.

* * *

Summary: For the first time after King Regis' death, Reina actually wants to get some food.

* * *

 _28 May, 756:_

Noctis had expected from the start that their father's death would hit Reina harder than it did him and, considering the magnitude of the hole it had left in his life, he didn't really want to know what his sister was feeling. All the same, it was unnerving to see some of the changes.

She slept on the road more often than he did, now, which was to say all the time. No sooner had the doors shut than she was asleep. This, he suspected, was due to the fact that she slept very little at night. Not one morning had gone by that he woke to find his sister still asleep beside him in the tent; some nights he felt her get up not long after going to bed. Sometimes he followed to find his twin in the Regalia with that all-too-common hollow look in her eyes.

"Can't sleep, anymore?" Noctis pulled the door open and sat down beside her. She wasn't even committed to trying to sleep in the Regalia, that night.

"I keep dreaming," she mumbled in response.

"What about?" Noctis asked, eyes widening. Her dreams had been bordering on infrequent for years; if she was having more now, maybe it would help. They needed all the help they could get.

Reina shook her head. "Not like that. I'd sacrifice some sleep in return for some sort of clarity but these are just… torture. Meaningless pictures and events. Father drifting farther and farther away and no matter how hard I try I can't reach him…."

She didn't look at him when she spoke. She didn't really look at anything; she just stared with wide, unseeing eyes without ever seeming to blink. That was what she looked like most days, now.

There were dark circles under her eyes, a sort of permanent addition. She still had to be coerced to eat anything and that took a visible toll, as well. Her clothes, already wrinkled and dirty from nights on the road, seemed to hang more loosely on her frame. The last time he had seen her so careless about her appearance had been due to concern for their father. Now he was gone and she didn't even have that to hold onto. It was like all of the light had gone out of her.

Before, she had cried a lot. For nearly a week after, it had been difficult to catch her without tears in her eyes; Noct could manage because he could remind her of the happy times. But recently it was more difficult. She didn't cry, but she didn't smile, either. She looked like someone had cut her open and hollowed out the inside, so just a shell of her remained. Maybe they had.

Sometimes there were still flashes of his sister inside. Noct tried to encourage her when that did happen, but invariably she slipped away again.

It had been eleven days since Niflheim had taken Insomnia and their father away from them. And, in spite of Ignis' best efforts, Reina still only ate when Noctis prompted her to. Until that day, anyway.

They were on the road heading southwest from Hammerhead following up on some hunts because Cor had, once again, not made it to their appointment on time. Noctis was certain that in an hour he would call to tell them to meet him halfway across Lucis, but for now they could do _some_ good. Conversation on the road was sporadic but otherwise cheerful. Reina sat in the middle of it but hadn't said a word all day. It was so infrequent for her to interject at all that when she _did_ speak, Noctis thought he had imagined it.

"Can we stop?"

The only reason he knew he _hadn't_ imagined it was because everyone else was looking at her like that, too.

"What's up?" Noctis asked. Ignis probably would have pulled over then and there, but she hadn't quite indicated _where_.

"I'm hungry."

That one he _must_ have imagined. Reina was asking to stop for food? She hadn't willingly eaten food in a week and a half.

"Of course; was there something particular you wanted, Your Highness?" It was Ignis who asked this time, glancing at them in the mirror. Noct wanted to tell him off for calling her 'Highness,' but he didn't. It felt like if he said anything she might change her mind about wanting to eat; Gladio and Prompto looked like they thought the same—only they appeared to have stopped breathing, as well.

Reina, evidently aware of the attention everyone was paying her, ducked her head without meeting anyone's eyes.

"Fish." Her murmured response was only audible because no one else was talking and Ignis had turned off the music.

"Fish! Now we're talking." Noct couldn't help himself. Reina tipped sideways and leaned against him.

"Galdin is a short drive away; I daresay Mother of Pearl has the best choices where seafood is concerned," Ignis said.

"Hey—Kenny makes salmon, too!" Prompto spoke up for the first time.

"Certainly," Ignis' tone was dry. "If you enjoy your fish overcooked and saturated in oil. It was my impression that the princess wanted seafood, not rubbish."

Reina didn't interject. She just buried her face against Noctis' neck and stayed there. Noct wrapped one arm around her shoulders and Ignis made the final decision, given that he was the one behind the wheel. They went to Galdin.

It wasn't overly busy inside Mother of Pearl; they had a table without waiting and Reina, silent once more, was seated between Noct and Ignis. Since she seemed to have finished saying all she intended to say, conversation resumed more or less as normal.

"Man, every time we walk through here I feel like I should be wearing nicer clothes," Prompto tugged at his vest, glancing around. "Actually sitting in the restaurant makes it a little worse, don't you think?"

"Feeling out of place, Prompto?" Ignis, the only one of them who looked like he might have belonged there, put on a smug smile as he leaned forward with his elbows on the table.

"Eh, it's not so bad," Noct said. He had been in more formal places in less formal attire—or equivalently informal attire. Then again, being informal in formal situations was his modus operandi. "At least you're wearing a shirt. Unlike some people, here."

Noct glanced toward Gladio.

"I'm wearing a shirt," Gladio objected.

"You're wearing half a shirt without a shirt underneath it. Like if Prompto was just wearing that vest," said Noct.

"No one wants to see Prompto just wearing that vest," Gladio said.

"Hey!"

"I don't seem to recall anyone saying they wanted to see you just wearing _that_ shirt, and yet, here we are," Ignis observed.

"Well. Y'know." That was all he seemed to have for justification.

"And can we talk about your hair for a second?" Noctis leaned back in his chair, tilting his head to get a look at the back of Gladio's hair.

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"It's basically a mullet," Noct said.

"Business in the front, party in the back," Prompto's tone said it should be commended; the cackle that came after rather counteracted the effect.

Their food arrived; Reina turned her attention to filling her stomach—of her own volition, for once. It was the first thing she had actually given attention to since they had gotten out of the Regalia. It was impossible to tell if she listened as they made fun of Gladio's appearance, but she certainly didn't appear to. Her eyes didn't follow the conversation; she gave no reaction to anything anyone said.

Gladio hit back: "I think you're all just mad _you_ can't take your shirts off in public. Everyone would run screaming."

He had a point, there. Much as Noctis would have liked to claim he could display his own impressive muscles, he knew that was impossible—given that he didn't have impressive muscles to display.

"Hey! I could take my shirt off if I wanted. I'm just too classy for that," Prompto objected.

"You're classy. Right." Noct shook his head.

"It makes about the same amount of sense as the rest of his statement," said Ignis.

"I could! Just because Gladio's bigger—I could still rock it!"

There were universal sounds of disagreement from everyone at the table, save Reina, who remained with her eyes fixed on her lunch, steadily working through her white fish in tomato sauce.

"What do you think, Reina? I could pull it off, right?" Prompto, apparently desperate for _someone_ to agree with him, turned to his last possible ally.

Reina didn't look up from her plate. Her expression didn't change from that fixedly empty one she usually wore, now.

"I don't care." Her voice matched her expression: hollow, monotone, absent of any sort of feeling. If anyone doubted her words, the tone made it clear. She didn't care about Prompto taking his shirt off, but, more than that, she didn't care about anything at all. The only thing she had cared about in a week was that fish.

Noct sighed inwardly. Prompto looked regretful—not that she didn't care about him without a shirt on, but because his attempt to include her had failed so tremendously.

"Perhaps," Ignis said, breaking the dark silence that followed Reina's words, "We should all simply agree to keep our remaining clothes in place."

"Yeah…" Prompto sighed, returning to his meal.

And that was the way things were, mostly. Prompto, Ignis, and Gladio did their best to keep spirits high; Noctis—somehow—managed not to think about his father when he was with them, but Reina never stopped. It was easier for him; for years he had only seen his father every few months or so—for important events or whenever it was just time to visit for dinner, as dictated by his sister. He was used to having that time where he never saw the king. But Reina had stayed in the Citadel; she had seen him every day and—more recently—she had spent nearly every moment in his company. To have him suddenly absent from her life… Noctis could understand the emptiness, even if he had never felt anything so sharp or terrible.


	18. Imperial High Commander

A/N: This could (and maybe should) be in the base story, but the whole story section where it would fit does not actually exist. So it's here, instead. Written by request.

* * *

Summary: Meeting Ravus during the game timeline.

* * *

Imperial High Commander Ravus Nox Fleuret.

The last time they had seen him he had just been Ravus; an older boy sporting a light smattering of freckles and a quick smile. It had been a few years since Reina had first heard the new title attached to his name, and she had been half convinced that she had misheard.

" _Ravus_? Prince Ravus of Tenebrae?"

The king gave her a quizzical look, but didn't object to the interruption. She might have been mortified to realize she _had_ intruded on a conversation that she hadn't been invited to, but for now she was too stunned by this new information.

"The very same, Your Highness," Drautos affirmed.

Impossible. Ridiculous and impossible. Ravus? Sweet, warm Ravus; Ravus who had teased her for being lonely and unceremoniously taken her as an honorary little sister in the next breath; _that_ Ravus was High Commander in Niflheim?

She wanted to tell him he was wrong, that there must have been some mistake, but she held her tongue.

It still didn't sit right with her. It had rattled around her head for weeks, refusing to settle into place. Of course she knew that Tenebrae belonged to Niflheim since the last she had seen him. But she also knew that his mother had died that day, cut down in front of him by the man in the Magitek armor. How could one watch the Empire murder one's mother and end up as Imperial High Commander?

But there was no mistake. The reports persisted and, as the years passed, Reina nearly grew accustomed to it. She never knew why, but she was forced to accept that _something_ had happened to the sixteen year old who had cordially shared his home with her.

Looking at him now, she could _almost_ see the boy.

His face had narrowed, sharpened in the cheeks until his chin was nearly a point. The soft, thoughtful brows had hardened into a perpetual scowl. There was no warmth left in his eyes. But the nose was the same and, just in the center, if she disregarded the glare, Reina could nearly see Ravus showing through the High Commander's face.

"Long has it been, Noctis."

"Ravus…" Reina hadn't realized how much she still wished it wasn't true, until then. A part of her had been hoping that if she met him she would know it had all been a lie—that High Commander was just a title, some sort of means to an end—and that she would still find the same boy she had known. But it wasn't. It hadn't been. She couldn't look at his face now and tell herself he was the same person.

His eyes flicked toward her for an instant before settling back on Noct.

"Hello, Reina," he said, unconcerned and still looking at her brother. There was acid in his voice that the boy she had known wouldn't have been capable of producing.

"You received the Storm's blessing. And yet you know nothing of the consequences." His blade was bare in his hand, pointed at Noct's throat. As the High Commander advanced, Gladio stepped forward.

"Watch it—" He accomplished nothing but trading places with Noct—perhaps that was his goal, but it seemed a stupid one to Reina.

"Ravus—What _happened_ to you?" It was probably just as stupid to ask as it had been to step forward—for some reason she did both, anyway.

"Reina—!" Ignis grabbed her around the waist and dragged her back as Ravus' sword moved. He didn't strike at either of them, but his blade remained levelled, hanging in the air as a lingering threat.

"Your beloved father did this—or near enough." Ravus lifted his left hand, which was, she noted, not really a hand at all. Not really an arm. Where there ought to have been an arm, there was magitek, instead. "But no matter. It has been _replaced_."

She had to peer around Ignis to look at Ravus. She hadn't meant his arm—maybe he knew that—but now that he claimed her father had done it she _did_ wonder. He had been in Insomnia, then. Been there, participated, and was partially responsible for what had happened. She ground her teeth together, fighting back anger and disgust.

"Or did you mean what happened to the little boy you knew? Your father did that, too, the day he killed my mother and left my home to burn."

"He did no such thing," Reina hissed, shaking her head. "General Glauca killed your mother, like he did my father."

"Your father left children and innocents to die—twice, now—for the sake of his son. Truly, I am surprised you don't find him as despicable as I; it is clear all he ever cared for was your brother and his power."

" _How dare you speak of him—!_ "

Her naginata was in her hand before she knew what she was doing. Later she would wonder what she had been thinking; the truth of the moment was that she _wasn't._

" _Reina_." Ignis caught her, dragging her back once more before her stupidity got her killed. "Stop this."

Ravus was sneering at her. "You know it to be true. You were always the smarter twin… yet your brother was heir and so your father loved him best. _All hail the Chosen King_."

"You know _nothing!_ " Reina cried.

"Awful high and mighty for an imperial rat, serving the enemy to hunt down Luna!"

"I do not serve. I command!" Ravus lunged forward, grasping Noct by the throat and shoving him backward. Once more Gladio stepped forward, putting himself between Noctis and Ravus.

"The King's sworn shield," Ravus observed with disdain.

"You better believe it."

"A weak shield protects naught."

Reina watched in disbelief as Ravus brought his sword down on Gladio's. With one hand he put enough force behind his blade to bring Gladio nearly to his knees. And he didn't even break a sweat. When he grew tired of that game he let Gladio repel his blade and thrust the bigger man back with a strike from his elbow. Ravus simply didn't look muscular enough to overpower Gladio. But he had done that and more. Gladio went flying, slamming into the Regalia before he could get his feet back underneath himself.

That was absurd and impossible, too. Nearly as absurd as that man in front of them calling himself Ravus, when it seemed blatantly clear that he wasn't.

Noctis advanced, summoning his arms; from the look on his face the High Commander would have cheerfully destroyed him then and there—or as close as such a man could get to cheerful. He might have, if the Imperial Chancellor hadn't arrived and put an end to things. It wasn't welcome aid, but Reina couldn't have honestly said that they didn't need it.

Ignis stood in front of her the whole time, as if concerned she was going to try for Ravus again. That desire had leaked out of her, however, and she felt more broken than before in its absence.

"Think about it, Reina." Ravus caught her eye as she watched him go from behind Ignis. "There is little cause for _us_ to be at odds, save for your choice of loyalties."

That was when she saw the flash of her once-friend; the smile was a smirk, cold and harsh rather than warm and teasing, but it beckoned, hinting that he was underneath just waiting for her to find him like she had imagined all those years. She didn't know whether to scream or to cry. In the end she did neither, but watched him leave through overbright eyes.

"And yours," she whispered to his back, though it seemed unlikely that anyone save Ignis heard.


	19. The Other Side

A/N: Prompt fill for Verdennia. It came out kinda short; I'm sorry! I hope you like it, anyway. Reina/Ravus ish.

* * *

Summary: After the battle with Leviathan, Ravus muses on Luna, Reina, and how they all ended up here.

* * *

She was eight when they met. Just a scared little girl, trying very hard to pretend she wasn't. He had stretched out his wings and she had ducked underneath, all the while looking around to make sure no one saw her relying on someone else. A peculiar child, to be certain. Then again, they had both been different back then. Everything was different back then.

But twelve years had passed and she was a grown woman. Admittedly, Ravus had thought very little about her in those years—just a little girl with an unfortunate family. She still had the latter, at least. It was just a shame about her blood. That first time he had seen her, after…

"What happened to you?" She had asked, like the answer was something simple, something quantifiable. Maybe she was still just a little girl. Grown up, perhaps—beautiful, graceful, intelligent—but still with that naïveté that came along with living in a castle her whole life.

Or, at least she had, right up until a few weeks prior, when the empire had pulled the walls down from around her. Fitting. Maybe now she could see what was outside. He told her as much, even as the chancellor called him away—

"There is little cause for us to be at odds, save for your choice of loyalties."

If she had left them behind, he would have taken her in, just as he had in Tenebrae twelve years before. If she had admitted what she must have known to be true—that her father had been a weak fool—then maybe it would have worked out differently, for them. But she couldn't admit it, then. She couldn't admit it, now, either.

Maybe it wasn't even true.

"Ravus?"

In the fading light, mist curled up from the cold stone—sprayed wet with blood and seawater. It parted for him, but it swirled around her as she stood, blocking his path out, with her polearm held down to her side and her chest rising and falling rapidly, like she had been running to reached her brother. At least she wasn't too late.

"Reina," Ravus said, "You brother is well enough—due, in no small part, to his loyal retainer."

Her face was smudged with soot and dirt and blood. But she was still beautiful.

Just like Lunafreya.

"And Luna…?"

She asked, at least. Much as he wanted to take comfort in the fact that it meant she was thinking about Luna—that someone else cared—he couldn't bring himself to move past the biting pain just at her name. Luna. Would that no one else ever spoke it again. No one else deserved it. She was too pure—too good—too bright for this dark world.

But Reina had a brightness of her own. A little more like a fire than a sunbeam, but present all the same.

"My sister… was not so fortunate."

Luna. Luna. Luna.

Her face, serene—she might have almost been asleep, except…

The front of her dress. White dyed crimson.

She was too young. Too perfect. He should have protected her—he should never have let it come to this in the first place.

Now she was gone.

It was too late.

"Oh, Ravus…" No one ever reached out to him; no one tried to touch him unless they were planning to kill him. But she did. She stepped forward, one hand extended, and he jerked back—an automatic response—what else would he have done?

That he might have stayed didn't occur to him until she dropped her hand—rebuffed, hurt, disappointed even. He might have stayed and let her reach out to him like he had reached out to her all those years ago. Even then… her pride and stubbornness at eight rivaled that of kings. They had that much in common. Maybe more. Maybe he would have found out, if he hadn't pulled away.

She was still a Caelum, still too devoted to a cowardly man, but… but now he had to wonder. Luna had believed strongly enough to give up her life for Noctis' cause. That he didn't deserve her was a moot point—she had believed and that was more important. And here was Reina, too—not a fool, not a coward—so perhaps he needed to believe, too.

Everything else he believed in had already fallen apart. What was one more thing?

"Your brother… he is the Chosen One, is he not?" He knew what she would say, but he asked anyway. He wanted to hear it.

"Yes." No doubts, no hesitation.

Maybe he really was.

If only… if only she had lived. Maybe she could have been happy—even if it was with him, that was better than this. Than nothing. Than a long story cut off halfway through.

Ravus looked back up at Reina. She was beautiful, now, in a way she hadn't been at eight—cute, perhaps, but not beautiful. And she was so like Luna.

Once, Reina had taken his hand and let him soothe her fears and make her feel safe and welcome in his home. If he let her, would she do the same for him?

He took a step forward, halting. How long since he reached out to someone instead of backing away? He lifted his hand—maybe she would take it—and brushed his fingers over her cheek. Nevermind the dirt. They were both a mess in more ways than just that.

"I thought, once, that no such king could be born of a coward like your father, but even that I struggled to bring to terms with what I knew of you—not weak, not a craven; strong and dutiful… like Lunafreya," he said.

It was the wrong thing to say.

This time she pulled back; she turned her head away from him, breaking the contact, and what empathy had been on her face before transformed into hatred faster than the Fulgarian's strike.

"My father was not a coward. He did his duty. He sacrificed everything to protect the Chosen King: first Tenebrae and your mother, then Insomnia and his own life."

And that was it. His last chance, burned into ash and scattered on the wind. He was always doing that: every chance, every opportunity ever laid before him he had crumpled up and thrown away. He had always been too busy climbing ladders to notice the bridges burning behind him. And this… this was the last one. Now he was at the top with no way down but to jump into that yawning chasm below and lose himself in the darkness.

So be it.

"I know not what to believe anymore." He dropped his hand and brushed past her. "Go, then. Go to your king. Tell him I await him in Gralea… with your father's glaive."

Because Gralea was where he would find Ardyn Izunia.


	20. An Uninvited Audience

A/N: Sooo... this is a prompt-fill for HRHPrincessTricia that I was supposed to write about five months ago... (I'm so sorry!) Request was for an AU with no war, no prophecy, no chosen king, and some what-if fluff for IgRei.

Okay. Full disclosure. This took five months because I got _way_ too hung up on the details. Like, it sounds very easy to say "what happens if everything was all hunky dory?" until you realize how much of Reina's character is really shaped by those events. She does everything to get Regis' attention because he usually gave it to Noctis - but if Noct wasn't chosen they would have been equal, there would have been no inferiority complex, she wouldn't have felt constantly protective of Regis (because he wouldn't be upholding the wall and his health would be fine) and that's all a huge deal for her character. So. Like I said. I got very hung up on this, tried and failed to write a couple things and finally came out with this. Mostly, I avoid the Reina-character problems by not writing from her perspective, but I think there are some clear differences just from what she says and does, and even the words that she chooses. Anyway. Here it is. Turned out pretty cute (I don't know if it turned out five-months-wait cute, but that's what I've got for you).

* * *

Summary: (AU: No war/no prophecy/no scourge/etc) When Ignis asked Princess Reina on a date, he neglected to consider a few important details. Like who her father was... and how extraordinarily nosy _every_ one of their friends was.

* * *

 _1:00 PM, the 18th of June, 753 ME:_

"It is _not_ a date."

Reina was looking up at him, as only teenage daughters can, with her arms crossed over her chest and a look of deep discontent on her face.

"Of course it isn't, my dear," Regis said.

This, as it turns out, is not a good way to convince your daughter you believe her.

"We are _just_ going to get coffee."

Were coffee dates not done, anymore? Who had outlawed that while he had been king?

"Well, I wish you the best of afternoons and if, perchance, your not-date happens to grow a little bit… _intimate_ please remember to use—"

" _Dad!_ "

She only called him 'Dad' when she was embarrassed. Possibly because no seventeen year old wants to hear her father talk about sex. Possibly because Clarus was standing by the back window, trying to look like he wasn't listening and listening very hard. Either way, it was gratifying to know he could still embarrass her, for the evenings when all was right with the kingdom and he had nothing better to do.

Regis lifted his hands in surrender. "I only say so because I love you."

She heaved and exasperated sigh and finished the look off with a roll of her eyes.

"I am going to get ready. I am not coming back before I leave." And, just to prove her point, she turned on her heel and headed for the door.

"What is this? No farewell kiss for your dear father?" She _always_ kissed him goodbye. Even when he was embarrassing her in front of his Royal Adviser who—incidentally—seemed to be struggling not to laugh.

"Not after that."

"I said I was sorry!"

"You did not!"

He hadn't.

"Well at least grant me a hug."

She was doing that look again. Somehow, she had noticed that he had failed to apologize the second time, as well. Finally, with a groan of resignation, she gave in and delivered the requested hug. Even when he stooped, she had to stand on her toes to throw her arms around his neck, but she never complained. She even gave him a kiss on the cheek, so she mustn't have been _that_ mad.

Then she pulled off his crown and mussed his salt and pepper hair until all semblance of polish was gone from his appearance.

"What—"

When she danced away from him, still holding his crown, it was with the most self-satisfied smile he had ever seen on her face. He had probably deserved that.

"Don't kill anyone while I'm gone!" And she was; out the door, crown and all, and into the hall.

Regis sighed and ran his hands over his hair in what turned out to be a pointless effort to smooth it back. A snort of laughter issued from Clarus. It seemed he had lost his battle for dignity.

"Yes. Well. Children will be children."

Never mind that she was seventeen; she was always going to be his little girl.

* * *

 _1:30 PM:_

"I can't believe you asked my sister on a date. It's like—you know we're _twins_ right?—it's like dating _me_. You never ask _me_ out on dates."

Noctis was being troublesome. Probably just for the sake of being troublesome, but that didn't excuse him. He was lying on the sofa with his feet over the arm and one hand dangling down.

"My sincerest apologies, Your Highness." Ignis checked his hair in the mirror and straightened his glasses. "I had no idea you were feeling so neglected. In the future, I shall endeavor to make you feel more appreciated. Shall I take you to dinner and a movie, tonight?"

"No way, I'm not gonna stand for this second-choice-date stuff."

"Ah, tomorrow then." Ignis tugged at his sleeves, ran a lint roller over his shirt, and picked up his keys and wallet.

"You're not gonna keep that free, in case she wants to go out tomorrow?"

"I gather that these things are best given a little bit of time."

"Where'd you read that?"

Ignis noted that Noct didn't ask where he had _heard_ it. Apt.

"In a book."

"No shit."

"Indeed. Now, if you don't mind, I have a date with your sister."

"Yeah, yeah." Noctis waved; he didn't get up to see Ignis to the door.

But, once Ignis was there, Noct _did_ yell after him: "Hey Specs! Don't forget I'm required to kill you if you mess this up!"

"I shall do my best _not_ to make a mess of things, then," Ignis called back before ducking out the door of Noct's apartment and shutting it behind him.

* * *

 _2:00 PM:_

She wasn't _late_ , yet, per say, but she wasn't on time, either, and that meant he was standing outside the Citadel re-rolling his sleeves so that the creases were _just so_ and both were even at his elbows.

She _wasn't_ late. Besides, it took time for the princess to get out of the Citadel—Astrals knew Ignis had gone through the same thing with Noctis often enough—and she most likely needed to bid farewell to her father and _he_ was known not to be forgiving when other people requested her time. Particularly when young men requested her time.

Ignis felt a bit queasy at the thought.

The king! Somehow, after getting wrapped up in the details of asking the princess on a date, he had completely forgotten that he was also asking King Regis' daughter on a date. Merciful he may have been, but in the past that charity hadn't extended to Reina's suitors. An unpleasant thought, indeed.

"I am out of my mind," he said.

This was precisely why he was wearing driving gloves that he was never going to take off, because awkwardly placed gloves were considerably less awkward than awkwardly sweaty hands. Not that she was ever going to know, because what was he going to do? Hold her hand?

Gods, King Regis was going to kill him. He had made mistakes before in his life, but this was the worst. It was also going to be the last.

At the top of the stairs, one set of tall double doors swung open. And she appeared, flanked by a few Crownsguards but—mercifully— _not_ her father. She smiled when she saw him. How was it that she could take an outfit that would have been entirely mundane on anyone else and transform it into something magnificent? A black skirt paired with a black top and a short black jacket should have washed anyone out—especially when combined with fair skin and similarly black hair. Somehow it didn't. Noct always did that, too.

Alright. Not a mistake, then. But if it was to be his last day on Eos, he might as well try to enjoy himself.

"Ignis!" She smiled again when she reached the bottom of the stairs. Or she hadn't stopped smiling. Probably that. Admittedly, he had been thinking about half a dozen other things, all of which were her but none of which were directly related to whether or not she was smiling precisely at that moment and _how the hell_ did she short-circuit his brain just by _being_?

"Your Highness."

Was he meant to call her 'Highness' if they were out together, casually, in no official capacity? It seemed almost rude to drop the honorific, and yet… her brother, at least, hated it. Should he bow? Probably not. He did, anyway.

He opened the door for her and she smiled again when she dropped into the seat. Or hadn't stopped smiling, again. He still wasn't sure.

 _Stop bowing, Ignis!_

"I leave you in Ignis' capable hands, then." One of Reina's escort—an older Crownsguard by the name of Ridel—stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "Do see her back to the palace on time, Ignis. You remember how His Majesty got last time she was out too late."

"Quite," said Ignis. As if he needed reminding.

* * *

From the windows in his office, Regis could just see the the front steps of the Citadel.

"You know I will have to have him executed if this goes poorly," he said.

"But of course," Clarus said, as if this was simply to be taken for granted, "Though you should keep in mind that, in the event that you _do_ have him executed, you will have to find a new Royal Advisor for your heir."

Regis made a sound of annoyance. "It took fourteen years to train _that_ one."

"Then perhaps you should not execute him."

"Well perhaps he should not fail utterly to impress my daughter."

"She doesn't even believe this is a date."

Regis glanced sideways at him with a little smile. "My dear Clarus, you amaze me. You know better. _Of course_ she understands the young Mr Scientia's intentions, but she is stubborn and—I suspect—is reluctant to hope too much."

"How—?"

"No one knows my daughter better than I." He turned from the window. "In any case. You have the address?"

"Of course. I believe Cor has your car waiting."

"Excellent—and were you able to locate my crown?"

"Knowing Reina, it will turn up in few weeks in your soup."

Regis sighed. "Yes…"

There was nothing for it. Not like it was going to help him, where they were going.

* * *

 _2:30 PM:_

The coffee shop he had chosen was off the beaten path, still in the main of Insomnia but understated and overshadowed by the chain shops that littered the business districts. The hope was, in part, that the smaller shop would allow for what little anonymity was possible while in the company of the princess. After all, it could hardly be pleasant to be stared at everywhere she went. Ignis never heard an end to it when he went out with Noctis.

It was a small building, sandwiched between two taller and—somehow—straighter buildings on either side. That only added to its charm.

Ignis found parking outside and opened Reina's door for her. Here was a conundrum, though. If he was just her Crownsguard escort it would—should—have been much like going out with Noct. But it was also… what was it? A date? It was, wasn't it? Which meant… should he offer her his arm? Perhaps they should just walk before he stood there awkwardly holding the door for too long, and he would sort all that out later. Yes. That was best.

They walked.

"Ignis," Reina said.

"Your Highness?"

"Reina."

"Ah. Yes. Reina."

"Did you choose this coffee shop because of the name?" She stood beneath the carved wooden sign that hung over the door, displaying the name _The Ebony Roast_ , and pointed up.

"Ah. Well."

Alright. Perhaps he had only found it because of the name. That did not, however, change the fact that it was a singular cafe.

Reina laughed. She seemed to take this as enough of an answer, so he didn't try to think of some excuse. He just pulled the door open for her.

Inside, it was more… comfortable than, say, any of the multitude of Stardusts dotted throughout the city. The brick interior gave it a certain personality, and the little fireplace set off to one side—a little bit crooked—would never be spotted in one of the streamlined chrome-and-glass shops. Above the counter, the menus were hand painted on slate by someone with impeccable penmanship.

A handful of patrons occupied tall tables or laid claim to armchairs by the fire, enjoying quite conversation over steaming cups. Most of them didn't look up at the sound of the door, but of the one or two that did, their gaze lingered longer than it might have on any other couple. That was an inevitable side effect of taking the princess out for coffee.

Reina looked up at the slate, then at him. "You choose. I don't know what to choose."

"You can hardly go wrong." Ignis stepped forward, laying a hand on her back almost subconsciously. No sooner had he done so than he regretted it—was he even allowed to touch her?—King Regis was going to kill him. Nevermind that it was just his hand on her back: it was his _hand_ on her _back_.

Ignis cleared his throat. "But if you insist—we will take two hot lattes, please."

He let his hand fall away and either she didn't notice or she didn't care. Crisis averted. Probably.

* * *

 _3:00 PM:_

"Have they kissed yet?"

The building across from The Ebony Roast was a series of shops with matching apartments on the next level. Most of those apartments had been transformed into extra storage space, break rooms, or the like. It was surprisingly easy to requisition the use of one, if you happened to be king.

"No, and I'm beginning to lose hope that he's ever going to work up the nerve." Clarus sat in a rolling chair in front of the window with a pair of binoculars.

Regis sighed and crossed his arms. "Shall we take bets?"

"Are you for or against, Your Majesty?" Clarus asked.

"I fear I must lay my gil _against_ young Ignis. That way, if he fails, at least I have won _something_."

Clarus considered him. "Very well. But I calculate the odds at no more than nine to one."

" _Nine_ to one? Absolutely not. Cor, tell me this boy has a greater than ten percent chance of making _some_ move."

Cor turned from the window and glanced at Regis. He held out his hands for the binoculars without a word, and when he received them he turned back to look across the street.

"I would take those odds, Your Majesty," he said at length.

Regis swore. "Fine. Nine to one. One hundred thousand gil."

"Done," said Clarus, "But he had better do it before it gets dark. I'm supposed to be meeting my children for dinner."

"I don't think you have to worry about that, Clarus." Cor was no longer looking directly across the street, but had instead angled the binoculars down toward the street below them.

Clarus stood up and looked where Cor did. Regis stepped up behind them and just managed to peer around Clarus' shoulder.

On the sidewalk directly below them, Gladio was leaning against a lamppost (with his back to the coffee shop, perhaps to remain inconspicuous). Iris peeked out from around his elbow briefly before ducking back in front of him—not that she needed to duck to be completely obscured by him.

"Who's he talking to? Not Iris, surely," said Clarus.

"All I can see is a boot," said Cor, "But at a guess I would say Noctis."

"Noct as well?" Regis leaned forward, nudging Clarus out of the way and pressing his forehead to the window. Cor was right. It _did_ look like Noct's boot.

"Might as well invite them up," Clarus sighed, "It could be some time."

* * *

 _4:00 PM:_

It defied all logic. Ignis had been friends with Reina and Noctis since they were three and he was six—the three of them had practically grown up together (though, to be perfectly clear, the analogy of being her older brother was a little bit uncomfortable, at the moment). They had spent so many hours together—discussing everything or nothing at all—that any semblance of self-consciousness lingering from fourteen years ago was long since crushed out.

Except it wasn't.

He _shouldn't_ have been nervous. But 'shouldn't have' didn't seem to enter into it; the fact was that the moment they crossed the line from friends to that-awkward-state-mid-first-date, he was questioning everything all over again.

What did Reina like, again?

Of course he knew. They had grown up together. He just… was having an awful time remembering anything at all as he stared at her across the table.

Reina liked…

Ah…

Brownies. Yes. Alright. That was true. Not necessarily applicable, but true. Except they were in a coffee shop and… Damn it all.

Her family. Certainly. But was talking about Noctis while they were on a date weird? And, to be frank, he was hoping to avoid all thoughts of her father. Imagining King Regis' reaction to their date was still making him feel physically uncomfortable.

Politics. Yes! An open conversation subject with potential for titillating discussion and no unpleasant associations (unless the king came up in this fashion, which, in hindsight, was actually quite likely).

"I hear the labor unions are stirring up unrest in the business district."

Wait. Unrest. That was probably an unpleasant association.

Gods _damn_ —

Reina sighed. "Yes. I fear the most recent tax update has left half the city on edge. I haven't made a decision yet—whether we should roll back or compromise or push forward—but I try to keep Father's words in mind: _someone_ is always unhappy about taxes."

"Oh? I had not realized it was your decision?"

That sounded bad.

"I only mean that—"

Reina grinned. "I know what you meant. But yes. That's my current task. Father never did choose easy tests."

"I gather he would not give them if he did not think you were equal to the challenge."

"That is _one_ way to look at it."

She was still smiling, so… crisis… mostly averted. Except they were still talking about King Regis and every time she said 'Father' Ignis heard 'he's going to kill you, Ignis.'

Another subject, then.

Something safer.

"I must apologize for not attending your last recital; Noctis was… well. Noctis was being Noctis."

She had a lovely laugh.

"I accept your apology on one condition only—that you swear to make the next one."

That… sounded like a very good trade off.

"But of course. What are you working on?"

"This symphony in three movements for the violin—mostly. Though Agnys has been… _encouraging_ me to play the piece I wrote for the piano as well and I'm nervous that it's terrible and I'll be sitting in front of three dozen people who are all trying to pretend like it's not."

"I had no idea you were writing anything—but I highly doubt that it is terrible."

"Maybe… you could come hear it, sometime? If I play it for just you, maybe I could do it for everyone else, later." She was suddenly a little redder in the face; she ran her hands over her arms and only met his gaze with fleeting glances.

And it occurred to him that maybe… just maybe… she actually felt much the same for him as he did for her. And if she did… maybe Ignis wasn't going to be killed by the king.

"I would love you—ah—to! I would love _to_!"

Shit. Shit shit shit shit.

Reina blinked at him, stunned. Then she laughed. She laughed until her eyes sparkled with tears and Ignis couldn't help but laugh at his own blunder along with her.

Maybe. Just maybe. It would all turn out, no matter how much he embarrassed himself.

* * *

 _5:00 PM:_

"I'm _hungry_." Noctis had stolen Clarus' chair.

Gladio had taken up Cor's post by the window with Iris beside him. Regis was beginning to wish he had brought a book.

"Indeed," Regis said.

Noctis pressed his feet against the far wall and pushed off, sending his chair flying across the room. "Gladio. Order some pizza or something."

"Order your own pizza."

Noctis groaned.

Regis paced, arms folded across his chest. Yes, it was all fine and well that they were out and—apparently, otherwise it wouldn't have gone on so long—enjoying themselves. But it really was high time that Ignis just kissed her, because they couldn't sit around here all day.

"Regretting your bet, yet, Clarus?"

Clarus leaned against the back wall by the door and watched him. He sighed.

At least, if nothing else, Regis would be up one hundred thousand gil by the end of the night.

* * *

 _6:30 PM:_

 _(Leaving the coffee shop & exasperated Regis)_

By some miracle, that seemingly unsurpassable wall of awkward had melted away. Perhaps it was due to laughing together about how ridiculously un-suave he was being; perhaps it was the silent agreement that they _were_ on the same page; or perhaps it was simply finding the right topic and remembering that, in spite of everything else, they really were friends first.

Before he knew it, the sun was beginning to set and they had been sitting in The Ebony Grind for hours talking about books and music and theater and…

And, as he admired the brilliant orange and pink backdrop to the skyline outside, he remembered what Ridel said, earlier that afternoon:

" _Do see her back to the palace on time, Ignis. You remember how His Majesty got last time she was out too late."_

He glanced at his watch. Six-thirty?! How was it six-thirty already?

"I admit, I am beginning to grow nervous that His Majesty will have my head if I keep you out past dark," he said.

She glanced out the window, then sighed. "He probably won't, but he _was_ being infuriatingly obnoxious, today. I suppose we shouldn't put it past him." She glanced back at Ignis, then grinned, as if to say 'or maybe we _should_ ,' but she didn't say that, for which Ignis was eternally grateful. "I promise to fight him off if he tries."

"For that you have my thanks." Ignis rose to his feet and offered her a hand up.

She took it. And she didn't let go. She knit her fingers with his and leaned close enough that their shoulders brushed when they walked.

About that nervousness that he didn't have anymore? It was definitely not back.

How does one even walk while holding hands with someone? He should walk slower, probably, but there was this awkward push-pull if their steps didn't line up, and also she was a foot shorter than him so either she had her elbow bent or he was listing awkwardly to one side, but— _really_ —what did it matter?

She was holding his hand.

* * *

"Pack it up. Show's over," Cor announced, handing the binoculars off to Clarus.

"What? Seriously?" Noctis—still without pizza—had taken to laying on the floor with his feet up on the rolling chair. "We sat here for _four hours_ and he didn't even kiss her? Dad, you're killing him, right?"

Regis ran his hands over his face. Maybe it had been too optimistic to hope that Ignis would actually kiss her on the first date. After all, they _had_ stayed out for four hours and appeared engaged in conversation the entire time. That was worth something, at least. He wasn't sure, yet, if it was worth a hundred thousand gil, but alas, that was what it was all he would get, anyway.

Clarus stood, stretching, and shot Regis a sympathetic smile. On his way toward the door, Clarus squeezed his shoulder.

"At least you get a hundred thousand gil out of it," Clarus said, "Meanwhile, I have to tell my children that their allowance is suspended for the next ten years."

"Nuh uh. No way you're taking this out on us," Gladio said, "You can pay off your own bets."

"Just take it out of Ignis' pay," Noctis said.

Now _there_ was an idea.

* * *

 _7:00 PM:_

It _was_ dark by the time they reached the Citadel again, but if Father wanted to pin that on Ignis, he was going to have a fight on his hands. It wasn't even full dark. The sky was pale—almost lavender in the sun's absence—and the lights were just lighting up the city. Reina half expected Father to be waiting when they got back (for all Father teased her about her date with Ignis, he really was an incorrigible worrier), but the only people on the steps were Crownsguards when they arrived.

Ignis opened the car door for her; she let him because something told her he would look put-out if she did it herself.

"Well. Thank you for putting up with my company all afternoon," Ignis said.

"It was _quite_ the strain, but I've weathered more trying things for a good cup of coffee," she said.

He looked at her like he wasn't sure whether or not to take that at face value. Reina laughed. Some day he was going to realize she was still the same person, regardless of whether they were on a _date_.

She stood on her toes and threw her arms around his neck. It took a moment for him to hug her back—like he was so stunned he had forgotten that was what one did. She held tight to him—her chest pressed to his—and breathed him in. He smelled of coffee and cinnamon.

"Relax, Ignis." Something about dancing around each other in uncertainty was a little bit thrilling… but it was the end of the day and it was time to take a bow and end the dance. "I like you, alright? You already know that."

He turned his head to look at her, still not letting go. The look on his face said he _hadn't_ known or, at least, that he hadn't let himself believe it.

"I… quite like you, too," he said.

She managed not to laugh, because she didn't want him to think she was laughing _at_ him—never mind that she was.

"So I gathered." She loosened her hold enough to drop back on her heels and look up at him (why was everyone so _tall_?). "There. Now we're both on the same page and there's nothing to be nervous about."

Not that he wasn't sweet when he was nervous.

"I suppose not…"

If she had been just a few inches taller, it wouldn't have been so inconvenient. But, with her hands at the back of his neck and her weight shifting back up on her toes, he seemed to take the hint. Or he was acting on some subconscious desire and didn't notice he was leaning down until after her lips were against his. Her heart pounded in her ears, betraying her, in spite of her insistence that there was nothing to be nervous about. After a hesitant moment, he kissed her back.

The butterflies in her stomach burst into fireworks. She leaned up toward him, refusing to break contact—not that he was trying. His breath was warm on her skin, his lips soft against hers. And, for a few moments, standing at the bottom of the Citadel steps as the first stars broke through the darkening sky, everything was perfect.

And then—

"I believe nine hundred thousand gil was the number we agreed upon?"

—Clarus' voice split the quiet.

Reina and Ignis broke apart, she dropping back on her heels and turning to look behind.

"That hardly counts! _She_ kissed _him!_ I bet you one hundred thousand gil that Ignis would not kiss her, and so he has _not_."

They had a whole audience. Not just Father and Clarus, arguing about—a bet on Ignis _kissing_ her? But Cor, Gladio, Noct, and Iris were all standing just down the drive from them. How had she not noticed their cars pulling up? And also, where had they been that they were out and had arrived back just the same time Reina and Ignis did?

Oh.

Oh no.

He absolutely had _not_ followed her on her date with Ignis.

She turned and buried her face against Ignis' chest, thankful for the dark that hid her blush. She was going to kill her father. She was _going to kill him_.

"Those were not the terms and you know it, Regis. One hundred thousand gil, nine to one that they would kiss. But I'll give you a week to pay up."

"Certainly _not_. Those odds were calculated for Ignis kissing Reina. If we had included the alternative, I should never have agreed to such paltry odds—we both know my Reina is far too forward for that."

"Don't be a sore loser, Your Majesty. Gladiolus! Do you still want that new car?"

" _Cor!_ " Father glanced over his shoulder and motioned to Cor. "Would you be so kind as to reiterate the terms of my wager with Clarus?"

Cor stepped forward. "I do believe the odds, at least, were only for Ignis kissing Reina and _not_ vice versa—that the bet was made on the agreement of those odds implies that this is what was being bet upon."

"Thank you, Cor. My apologies, Gladiolus; your car will have to wait," Father said.

Reina shook her head, still not looking back at them. She had never wanted so much to be able to disappear; she had never wished so much that she wasn't the princess, because if she wasn't they could have just driven away and come back in a few hours when Father was feeling less obnoxious (though that could take months, really). Unfortunately, security was a touchy subject.

The click of father's boots on the pavement meant he was coming toward them. They could still run away, right?

"Reina, my dear, I believe dinner is in order. You are welcome as well, Ignis—though I must express my deepest disappointment at your utter lack of nerve, today."

"Must you ruin _every_ nice moment in my life?" Reina turned to glare at him before Ignis could apologize (which he would, give the chance).

"Only the most important things," her father said.

Reina made a growl of annoyance. "You had better finish that paperwork to declare me your heir, because I'm going to _murder you in your sleep!_ "

"That would be treason, my dear."

" _That's the point!_ "

He was trying not to laugh at her. She could tell by the way his lips pressed together in a thin smile and the muscles along his jaw quivered trying to keep his face under control.

In the end, he chose not to respond to her. "Are you coming to dinner, Ignis?"

"Of course, Your Majesty." Behind her, Ignis bowed.

Father considered him for a moment, scrutinizing. If he was going to tell Ignis off…

"We shall have to work around the formality, once I am your father-in-law."

" _Dad!_ "

He laughed; his whole body shook with it.

 _Oh_ she was going to kill him.

She lunged forward to throw a punch that she knew would never land. It stopped him laughing, at least, when he caught her wrist, spun her around, so her back was to his chest and her arms were crossed—and held—in front of her. And he hugged her.

"You shall have to do better than that," he said, "Ignis, why don't you go on ahead with Noct and Gladiolus, while I speak to my daughter—you have had her to yourself all day, after all."

Ignis bowed once more and practically fled up the stairs, the others trailing after. Reina tugged against her father's grip, trying to free herself, but it was pointless. He was twice her size, had thrice her training, and she had _watched_ him wallop Clarus in morning trainings countless times before (though only at the risk of Clarus accusing him of cheating).

Still, she tried. And she glared up at him so he would know exactly how annoyed at this whole treatment she was. How dare he follow her on her date?! How dare he make bets over it and then hold a loud conversation with Clarus just to embarrass her and Ignis?

"I'm going to kill you," she said, once the only other people around were the Crownsguards that stood along the steps and at the doors above.

He smiled, but he didn't laugh at her again. He leaned over her, still holding her arms, so that his cheek was level with hers.

"Reina. Dearest. I am sorry."

If he thought _that_ was going to fix everything then—

Suddenly he wasn't restraining her, anymore; he was just hugging her tight against his chest.

"You and your brother are the most important things in my world. I know I may not always have the chance to show it—that I must sometimes make choices that cause you to wonder—but if I were not king then my life's work would be to ensure your happiness. And Noct's happiness. Perhaps I try your patience at times, but it is harder for me to accept that you are growing up than it is for you to grow up. So please… have some tolerance for your old man." He pressed a scratchy kiss to her hair. "I _do_ love you, Little Princess. More than anything."

Well. If he thought that was going to fix everything then…

He was probably right.

She hugged him back—such as it was from that position—and pressed her head against his. At length he released her and she turned to look at him.

"Just promise me you won't follow me on any more dates. That's just… _weird_ , Dad."

He smiled. "If you promise me you will be safe."

And for a moment she saw the worry hidden away under all the teasing. He really was an incorrigible worrier.

"Of course I will! Now come on, I'm starving." She tugged at his arm until he assented and followed her up the steps.

"And I _do_ wish you happiness with Ignis," he added, once they were at the top.

"Dad. It was a first date. Calm down."

He smiled, smoothed his hand over her hair, and led her inside with his hand on her back.

"That is precisely what I told Clarus about your mother."


	21. Birthday Dinner

A/N: Okay, I spent all the time I was supposed to be getting work done today writing this, instead, because it's Noct and Rei's birthday and I felt like I should post something for them.

Following the AU piece I posted last I got several requests for more stuff along the same vein. This doesn't quite answer any of the specific prompts but eh. AU Fluff. Also, wolfmizu reminded me that Mors should probably still be alive...

* * *

Summary: (AU: no war/no prophecy/no starscourge/etc) In which Ignis is a nervous wreck, Noct and Rei are classic siblings, and Regis finds out he doesn't ACTUALLY want Reina to have a boyfriend.

* * *

 _30th of August, 753 ME:_

Everything was very nearly prepared.

Ignis had picked up the seafood fresh that morning. It had taken him the better part of the month—most of it vacillation—to decide on a menu, but now it was settled and there was no going back. Reina would like it. Probably. Even if she didn't, it would be too late by then because—while he would have been perfectly willing to go back to the store and try again—something told him she wouldn't be willing to wait the extra hours that entailed.

No, it would be fine.

The only concern—really—was whether or not his cooking could hold a candle to that of the professional chefs employed in the Citadel. How was he meant to impress a princess with his culinary prowess when every meal she ate was a masterpiece in and of itself?

But if he thought about _that_ all day he would go mad. It would just have to do. It would be fine. Really. Completely fine.

Except his hands were a little less steady and the cut on those tangerines was messy so he would have to do another batch and _Gods_ he hoped his nerves calmed before he filleted the salmon because if _that_ came out uneven there was no going back. Why had no one warned him that cooking while nervous was a terrible idea? Why had _he_ not known that? Probably because when he was in front of the stove an inexplicable inner calm settled over him.

Usually.

He made the coulis, because he could do that even if he couldn't hold a knife straight. His eyes jumped toward the clock every other second and somehow minutes passed in between.

Everything was going to be fine.

It was all going to end in disaster.

Yes. Well. If he knew that now then there would be no surprise when it happened and therefore, arguably, that _was_ fine. 'Fine' was really subjective, anyway. Who went about defining these words for other people? 'Fine' could be the candles knocking over and a carefully-crafted homemade birthday dinner turning into a fiery inferno if he said so, because at least then she wouldn't notice that his cooking was sub-par, and _that_ was fine with him.

The steady march of the minute hand around the face of the clock did nothing to settle his nerves. Nor had the cup of chamomile or the can of ebony, which—in hindsight—had probably been a very bad idea because when had caffeine ever been good for anxiety?

The cauliflower was chopped, the greens washed, the salmon filleted, the coulis strained, the cake batter mixed, and the table set. He could have spent another two hours pacing back and forth in the kitchen and finding more spots that he hadn't cleaned and—Gods had that picture frame always been crooked?—but time was up. If he didn't leave now he would be late to pick her up and that _would_ be a disaster.

Even so, he stood in front of the mirror, ran the lint roller over his vest and trousers, and ran his fingers through his hair until it sat _just so_ for several minutes. Too many minutes.

He was absolutely going to be late.

* * *

Tradition dictated that every August 30th, Regis set aside everything that was demanding his attention in the kingdom and spent the day thinking only about the two most important people in his life. Tradition was an excellent excuse to stop working once a year. As things were going, soon he wouldn't have to take a day off to see his daughter, at least, when she always worked alongside him. But Noctis had moved out of the Citadel the previous year and was _not_ sitting in on council meetings increasingly often now that he had graduated. Unlike Reina.

Regardless, it was nice to spend a lazy morning enjoying a late breakfast before trekking out to the lake for a day of fishing. For Noct. For Regis and Reina, that mostly entailed actually conversing about subjects unrelated to politics and learning much more than they had ever known they needed to know about fish.

It was… comfortable.

Noctis filled every ice chest they had brought with fish. Reina—looking suitably summery in her sundress—teased Regis about wearing a suit to the lake (what else was he going to wear? Perhaps he had once owned other clothes, but if they _were_ still about, somewhere, he had no doubt that they had long since ceased to fit, as he was now old and out of shape. To which Reina had given him a 'you aren't fooling anyone, Father' look and proven her point by trying to kick him and looking smug when he caught her ankle reflexively. And then complaining that he now held her ankle).

But when the afternoon wore on and Noctis had filled up every last inch of space for his haul of fish, they did—albeit reluctantly—pack up and make the walk back to the Citadel.

"And now, my dearest ones, how shall we spend the evening?" Regis climbed the steps, the luckiest man in Lucis, with his twins on either side of him. "I believe we still have an hour before dinner is served, but I daresay—if you are amenable—your grandfather would love to see both of you."

"I just want to play Legend of Lucis," Noctis said.

"Is it a—ah, what is the phrase?—multiplayer game?" Regis asked.

Noct looked up at him, both surprised and amused. "You gonna join me, Pops?"

"Sometimes even an old dog must learn new tricks. Will you teach me?"

Noctis laughed. "Oh, you are going _down_ , old man."

"As much as I would like to witness that, I must remind you that I _do_ have dinner plans." Reina stopped walking on the first landing.

" _What?_ " Regis stopped mid-step and turned to look at her.

She gave him a long-suffering look. "I _told_ you, Father. Ignis is making me dinner."

And, indeed, there was young Ignis, pulling his car up to the bottom of the stairs as they spoke.

Noctis groaned. " _Specs_ , you're _ruining_ my birthday!" He shouted as soon as Ignis had the door open.

"You're only jealous because _Luna_ lives too far away to make _you_ a birthday dinner." Reina elbowed him in the ribs and danced away before he could get her back.

"Oh yeah? Well maybe I'll just invite her out here next year so _I_ don't have to spend _my_ birthday with _you_."

"Absolutely not," Regis said. "I forbid it. No one is allowed to not spend their birthday with me."

"You're ruining my threats, Dad!" Noctis glared at him, then back at Reina. "Well, fine. Then Luna and I will spend it with Dad, because _I'm_ the good twin and _you_ can go off and have dinner with _Specs_."

Reina sighed in exasperation. "I told you this _weeks_ go."

"I thought you only said that to get me back for kicking Ignis out of the Citadel after I found the pair of you—"

" _Dad!_ "

"Well did you or didn't you?"

"Both! This is your comeuppance and also I just want to have dinner with Ignis on my birthday!"

"I still intend to remove the door from your bedroom." Regis crossed his arms over his chest.

" _I'm eighteen_."

"You are _n_ —"

Oh. Yes. She was, wasn't she?

Hellfire and damnation.

"I will do it anyway."

Reina made sound of frustration, threw her hands up in the air, and turned around to descend the steps. "Let's go, Ignis. Father is being insufferable."

Below, Ignis scrambled to open the door for her.

Regis' mind shouted at him to stop her. Maybe she was eighteen, but she was still his little girl and damn it, he could demand she spend her birthday with him, regardless.

...except it really did sound horrible that way, didn't it?

"What am I to tell your grandfather?!" Regis called after her.

"Tell Grandpa Mors that I love him more than I love you and that if he's still awake when I get home I will beat him at chess." She dropped into Ignis' car.

Regis was _not_ telling his father that Reina loved him more.

It wasn't true, anyway.

She was just mad at him.

"Ignis, you will have my daughter home by nine or I will have your head. And _behave yourself_."

" _I'm eighteen!_ " Reina shouted out the open window. "Ignore him, Ignis. He's not going to do anything."

Ignis hesitated, looking between the two of them before giving Regis a hasty bow and ducking into the car himself.

Regis made a sound of annoyance, watching them drive off. And that was a perfect evening ruined. A few months ago he might have said Ignis was a decent enough chap. Except that was before he had fully registered what it meant for Reina to have a boyfriend.

What it _did_ mean was less time for her to spend with Regis—and now he realized it meant fewer important days together, as well. He wasn't used to having to share her with another man.

He didn't like it an inch.

"Welp." Noctis shoved his hands in his pockets. "Want to go crash their date?"

Regis sighed. "I promised I would not follow her, anymore."

He watched the car until it disappeared and then stared down the road, hoping it would come back. It didn't. And the longer he considered that, the more he realized he was only pushing her away by trying to hold her back. But what was a father to do when his only daughter was growing up and spending time with a handsome young man, and his first impulse was to hold on tighter because _what if she got hurt_. Yet, if he didn't let her walk her own path and fall on her own then she was only going to resent him.

"Come on, Pops." Noctis nudged him. "Let's go play Legend of Lucis with Grandpa."

Against his better judgement he turned his back and let her go. He climbed the rest of the steps with just one of his precious twins still at his side.

* * *

If, at any point during their still-new relationship or the months before that Ignis spent contemplating it, he had thought the hardest part would _not_ be King Regis he had been terribly mistaken.

Every other man in the world could safely follow the instructions of his girlfriend over those of her father and fear very little retribution (save some likely discomfort during the next family dinner). But Ignis had the unique honor of being stuck between his girlfriend… and the King of Lucis.

The upside was that, by the time they reached his apartment, he had absolutely forgotten about any nervousness he had regarding dinner and whether or not Reina would enjoy what he had prepared. He was a little more concerned about being executed for treason. No matter how many times Reina told him that King Regis wasn't _actually_ going to follow through on his threats, Ignis came back to that look of pure animosity on His Majesty's face when he told Ignis to behave himself.

He was going to get beheaded.

At least his final meal would be good.

Hopefully.

"I do hope Noctis' afternoon exploits have not put you off seafood." Ignis held the door open for her, painfully aware—as he was each and every time she came over—that he lived in a cheap one-bedroom apartment and that no amount of cleaning would change the fact that the plaster in the bathroom had been cracked for months.

"Quite the contrary. I think I must be conditioned to have fish on my birthday. Noctis would throw a fit if we didn't eat his catch for dinner." Reina stepped in before him and, somehow, didn't seem put-off by the general state of his living quarters. Not that she ever had been, before, but he was still always relieved.

Ignis followed her in and took a few minutes hurrying about (had he really left that dirty spoon in the sink when he left? What had he been thinking?) to start dinner and light the tealights on the table while Reina made herself comfortable, sitting on a barstool on the far side of the island. Yes, he had anticipated the fact that he would be cooking with an audience. No, it had not quite registered exactly how unnerving that was going to be. Or how distracting.

"May I remark, Reina, how lovely you look?" He brushed her back as he passed behind her and stopped when she caught his hand.

She leaned back to lookup at him. "You may."

"You look singularly beautiful in that dress." So accustomed was he to seeing her in austere colors that it was almost a shock to see her in a white dress spotted with little yellow flowers. Aaand—

"Not that you don't _always_ look beautiful!" Ignis added hastily.

—two months and he couldn't get through a single evening without a blunder.

Reina only laughed. She leaned back farther and requested a kiss, which he gave without hesitation.

"I know what you meant," she said.

Thank the Gods for understanding girlfriends.

In spite of every intention Ignis had to remain tense with nerves through the entire dinner… he didn't. Though his hands had been shaking while he worked at pre-preparation, thinking of all the ways this could possibly go south, now that he had her sitting across the island from him with her elbows on the countertop and her chin on her hands, he was at ease. Something about the way she smiled. It made him believe that even if he did everything wrong and dinner turned out terrible… they would still have an enjoyable night just by being.

But he didn't ruin her birthday dinner.

The scallops turned out moist and perfectly browned, the salmon was tender, the cauliflower puree perfectly seasoned, and when he turned each individual lava cake out of its ramekin they remained intact long enough to be sprinkled with confectioners sugar, garnished with fresh raspberries and mint leaves, and topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. And the first bite revealed a molten chocolate center.

Ignis was too distracted to even feel relieved. Something about the sidelong glances and coy smiles she was shooting him.

He left the dishes piled in the sink and sat with her on the sofa, where she tucked up against his chest with one of his arms around her shoulders and her head tilted back to look at him. Among other things.

It was a lovely end to a lovely evening, sitting in his (immaculately clean) living room tangled up with Reina—lips locked and hands exploring.

It might have been perfect. If he hadn't remembered what King Regis had said.

Something told him that—whatever this might have been called—His Majesty would _not_ consider it 'behaving himself.' Not when he had been so incensed upon finding the two of them merely kissing—albeit with less-than-modest enthusiasm—in the Citadel a few weeks back.

Ignis broke the kiss abruptly and looked at his watch. How was it nine thirty already?!

"What is it?" Reina stilled, palms pressed to Ignis' bare chest. Beneath her hands his pulse quickened—and not from excitement.

"Your father is going to kill me."

Reina looked at his watch and tsked. "He will _not_."

Something on his face must have shown disbelief, because she sighed and the mild annoyance faded into resignation. "Though I may kill him."

"Reina, I—"

She pressed her finger over his lips to halt the excuse. "I know. He's still the king and, while _I_ might have the audacity to ignore his instructions, it does put you in an awkward position. You're a saint for putting up with him. If you drop me off at the steps you won't have to face him and I'll talk him down from whatever daft punishment he has already dreamed up."

Sorry though he may have been, Ignis was more relieved that he didn't have to face down _both_ the king and his own girlfriend for the chance to keep his head attached to his neck. Perhaps she would be angry with her father when they returned—in fact, he knew she would—but he was thankful not to be standing in the middle of that.

So they shared a last, lingering kiss before detangling and heading for the car.

* * *

Noctis succeeded in distracting Regis for at least an hour—though he was doubtless ill-tempered dinner company. With his father they were three for dinner, but Regis' eyes kept finding that empty chair that should have held Reina and every time they did he couldn't help but wonder why she didn't want to spend her birthday with her father, anymore.

After dessert they returned to the TV lounge—where Noctis had installed some sort of gaming system years before—and passed a few more hours while he tried to teach two old veterans how to fight inside a tiny box. It only worked for so long before Regis started watching the clock.

Nine o'clock came and went.

Regis stopped pretending to play Noctis' game and let his own father have that honor to himself. He paced the room. A few minutes he could have forgiven—various innocent things might have caused that—but this was far too many minutes. Reina _had_ told Ignis to ignore him. Would she really stretch this just to antagonize him? And if she was—or even if she wasn't—exactly _what_ were they doing with that extra time? Dinner didn't take three hours.

Or _four_.

"Stop pacing," his father snapped. "My legs hurt just watching you. Reina's a big girl; she'll be fine."

" _That_ is precisely what I am worried about," Regis said.

"You fret like an old maid!"

"You are not allowed an opinion until you have a daughter!"

"Bit late for that, my boy."

"Precisely."

His father shook his head and went back to Noctis' game, giving Regis up as a lost cause.

It was ten by the time she returned. By then, Regis had already imagined dozens of unsavory possibilities. Of course she was old enough to make her own decisions but _Gods damn it_ he wasn't ready for her to!

The lounge door cracked open, throwing a stream of hall light across the darkened room. Regis stopped pacing. His father and Noctis both glanced up from their game.

"Reina—" Regis took a step forward; she still looked much the same as she had the last time he had seen her—right down to the fact that she was still annoyed with him—but was it his imagination or was her hair a little more messy, her dress a little more wrinkled?

"Thank the Gods," Noctis said. "He hasn't shut up about you for _hours._ "

That wasn't true. Regis had hardly said a word about her. Granted, it was doubtless perfectly clear where his mind was, but he hadn't _said_ anything unless prompted.

He didn't take another step because she was still looking at him like she wanted to hit him and probably he deserved it but he would almost have preferred her angry so long as she was home. Almost.

* * *

Reina had opened the door with every intention of chewing Father out. If he wasn't always trying to intimidate Ignis, if he would just act like a normal father and let her forget—for once in her life—that she was the princess, then everything would have been _fine_. But he had to go all hostile and overprotective whenever Ignis was near. It was infuriating.

But he said her name in that choked, relieved tone and he just looked at her like he had honestly been afraid for her and everything else drained away. She didn't even hear whatever snide remark Noct made.

How could she be mad at him when he looked like that? However much she wanted to be, because he had interrupted her night with Ignis, she _couldn't_.

She sighed and stepped all the way into the room, closing the door behind her. Then she went and threw her arms around her father's neck. It took a moment before he hugged her back, as if he wasn't yet convinced that he was allowed to.

"I'm sorry for worrying you, Father."

But would it really have killed him to show that he loved her like a normal person instead of taking it out on Ignis?

His arms tightened around her. He didn't say anything. Eventually she pulled away—though he didn't want to let her. She dragged him over to the couch and sat him down. Then (it took a moment to convince him to let go of her hand) she went to give her grandfather a hug and a kiss.

"Hello, Grandpa."

"Happy birthday, Star-bright. I'll be waiting on that game you promised me! But go sit with my great lump of a son so he'll stop whining, first." He jerked his head toward the couch, hardly taking his eyes off the screen. Next thing _he_ would be hooked on Noct's games.

Reina laughed. "I will."

She pulled her sandals off and threw them at Noctis because that was how one said 'hello' to a brother. The first one his his shoulder, but he dodged the second.

"I will kill you."

"Love you, too." She went back to drop onto the couch, wedging herself between her father and the corner and throwing her legs over his lap.

He held onto her like he was afraid she would disappear if he let go.

Poor Father. Perhaps if Mother had still been alive she could have talked some sense into him, but Reina was—and had been for her entire life—the only woman in the Caelum family. That made it harder for him. For all of them, probably.

"Father." She snuggled up against his chest. "You don't have to put restrictions on me to get me to come back home. You are my father and I'll always love you—even when you're being insufferable. And just because I want to spend time with Ignis doesn't mean I _don't_ want to spend time with you and Noctis and Grandpa. But I spent all day with you."

His only response was to hold her tighter. Probably he already knew all that. Probably he had been telling himself the same thing all night. So she told him something he didn't know:

"And I _didn't_ have sex with Ignis."

By the light from the TV she caught the flush on his face. "I did not—"

"No, but you were wondering!"

"Reina—"

She laughed and leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Relax, dummy. I'm never going to grow out of having a father—or wanting a father. Just… tone it down a notch. I'll come home earlier if you're sweet instead of sour."

His lips twisted. "I _will_ try."

He would. But she would still have to have this conversation with him ten more times before he started succeeding.

"And Reina…" He smoothed her hair back from her face. "Perhaps, next time, Ignis will join all of us, instead."

Or maybe she wouldn't.

Reina smiled. "I'd like that."

* * *

A/N: I am incapable of writing fluff without Reina/Regis cuteness and/or drama. It is not a thing I can do. I'm sorry (except not at all).

Also for some reason Mors is basically Cid in my head, except he looks like the old-school (Versus XIII era) design of Clarus (before he was named Clarus). So there's that. Probably more Mors to come because who doesn't love Regis getting talked down to by dad-Cid?!


	22. Practical Considerations

A/N: Verdennia keeps telling my to make Ignis suffer. It is unsurprisingly difficult to write suffering and fluff at the same time. That's all I have to say about this.

* * *

Summary: (AU: no war/no prophecy/ no starscourge etc) In which Regis muses on daughters and Ignis gets a stern talking to by the king.

* * *

3rd of May, 754 ME:

Parenting is hard work. Perfect parenting is an impossible ideal that no one in the history of parents has ever reached. Every father of a daughter would say the same. Though the fathers of daughters with no mother were more likely to give a blank, exhausted stare.

The fathers without daughters were granted a little more surety—while it wasn't entirely true that boys were simpler and easier than girls, it _was_ , at least, accurate that their fathers had been boys once (generally speaking). Most of them remembered what that was like. It was harder to imagine what it might have been like to be a little girl. Or an adolescent girl. Or—gods forbid—a teenage girl.

But the fathers without daughters were also, without a shadow of a doubt, the unfortunate ones.

They never had the chance to learn what it was like to be a little girl, because _no one_ —neither sisters nor mothers nor wives—could teach so keenly, so unforgivingly, as a daughter. They never stopped growing and changing, and so they never stopped teaching.

Regis had learned, for instance, that dresses and hair and makeup were important enough to make a six year old sit still for hours; that tears were a necessary stage between distress and acceptance; that not every problem needed a solution—sometimes it just needed an open ear and a box of tissues; that puberty for a girl is half terrifying and half painful, and whoever designed it was either a fool or a sadist; that she wasn't going to break in half if he accidentally hit her with the wooden practice blade, but she would _absolutely_ hit him back (justified) even if it took her until dinner to catch him off-guard; that there were different shoes for different purposes and _no_ , the ever-so-sensible oxford did _not_ go with that dress but, incidentally, the open-toe heel went with both that dress _and_ the trousers (on a related note: he learned more names for shoes than he had known existed in the first place); and that _of course_ it was important what went with what and no, it wasn't for him or anyone else—it was for her.

For all the struggles and confusion, for all the nights being shouted at and in mourning of all the books thrown, he would willingly have gone on learning about his little girl indefinitely—long after the time when he had any right to call her that. But he could _not,_ no matter how often the subject came up and was aptly dodged, fathom what to do about _boys_.

It was the one thing he had maintained perfect denial about for the better part of her life. Admittedly, the first time it had occurred to him that she was attracting attention, his reaction _may_ have been a bit much. In his defense, she had only been sixteen, he had still been entirely convinced that she was a little girl, and the man in question had been unsuitably on the far side of 'young man.' Regis did not regret using his station to dispatch the fellow immediately. Much. In hindsight, he should _probably_ have at least looked to see what she thought about the situation, but the marquis was _in his twenties, Gods damn it!_ She had graciously let it all pass with only an eye roll and nothing else.

But that had been far from the last time. At first he teased her that he would soon have to follow her around with a heavy stick to beat away her suitors; she gave him that long-suffering look that she had perfected over the years and promptly cracked him over the head with her practice staff while he was distracted. The bruise had lasted for weeks. Really it was half coping mechanism and half testing the waters. If the rap on the head was any indicator, she was _not_ amused by his attempts to protect her from mankind's baser desires.

It would have been nice to claim that he _was_ only trying to protect her. After all, every father wanted a happy match for his daughter, someday, didn't he? So all that really remained was to scare away the unsuitable ones and let her have pick of the rest—which, statistically, was likely to still be a large number.

But it wasn't so simple as that. And, more and more, these days, Regis was beginning to understand that it wasn't simply his natural impulse to protect her from harm, which drove him.

It was more than half selfish fear, born of desire to keep her all to himself.

Perhaps it would have been easier if her mother had still been alive. Aulea would have dragged him back and sat him down and given him a stern talking to. She would have called him an idiot and she would have been right.

But Gods damn it, Reina was _his_ little girl and he was _never_ going to be alright with that changing. Wasn't it enough that he already shared her with her brother and her grandfather? Didn't she have enough men in her life? Did she _really_ need one more? After all, they had everything, together. Between Noctis' affectionate sarcasm and her grandfather spoiling her rotten at every opportunity and Regis covering just about everything in between, all emotional and relationship-based needs should have been thoroughly dealt with.

Evidently, they were not.

Ignis was a decent enough chap, as men who wanted to date his daughter went, but he was still a young man who _wanted to date Reina_. Actually it was worse than that. After eight months it was impossible to deny any more.

He _was dating_ Reina.

And, just now, he was standing in front of Regis' desk with his back so straight that he might have had a pole down the back of his shirt.

Something told Regis he hadn't come to discuss the latest healthcare proposal.

"Your Majesty." Ignis bowed, though he had done so twice already, which proved he did not, in fact, have a rod down his back. "I hope you do not think me too forward—"

Regis absolutely did.

"—and I realize that it is still quite soon, but I wished to make my intentions clear."

Nothing that Regis wanted to hear could possibly come after that sentence. Then again, nothing that Regis wanted to hear could possibly come from a private discussion with Ignis; either something had gone wrong, in which case Regis was contractually obligated to behead him, or _nothing_ had gone wrong, in which care Regis certainly did not want to hear any more.

Something told him he was going to, anyway.

Ignis cleared his throat. "I should like to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage."

"No," Regis said, without pause or hesitation. "Absolutely not."

Ignis bowed low, perhaps to hide the look of chagrin. "Sire, if I might inquire—"

"The list of reasons might fill several books." Regis rose from his chair. "It begins with this: _she is eighteen_."

Ignis hadn't straightened. "Yes, Your Majesty, I do realize—"

"Forgive me if I do not believe you, Mr Scientia." Regis rounded his desk. "My daughter is eighteen years old; she has yet to finish even her first year at university, and the pair of you have been dating for less than ten months. You have _also_ no mutual experiences to speak of. How could you possibly swear to stand beside her in the dark times as well as the bright when you have never experienced so much as a hole in the road?"

He let the silence stretch until Ignis realized that it hadn't been a rhetorical question. Ignis straightened, but he stared straight ahead at the wall, rather than looking at Regis.

"I am not the sort to abandon ship when the situation grows dire, Your Majesty."

"Remaining a loyal retainer to the prince and princess is not the same as building a happy relationship." Regis paced circles around Ignis, just so that he would have to fight not to turn. "In addition to age and inexperience, there is the mere situation of the kingdom. You know full well that Reina is heir to the throne; whomsoever she marries will become king-consort and _that_ must be agreed upon by a dozen people who have very little regard for puppy love. Instead, they will be focused upon the political benefits—it gains Lucis nothing for her to marry her royal adviser when relations with Tenebrae, Niflheim, or Accordo might be strengthened through a political marriage."

Never mind the fact that Regis had squandered his own chance at a political marriage for the sake of love and would—to his last breath—defend the right of his daughter to do the same. The point was that this young man had come here with so few doubts when he should have had so many.

Ignis' hands tightened into fists at his sides. Tension rang in the intermittent quiver of his arms. _Quite_ the improvement.

"Then comes the question of you, yourself." Regis circled back around to stand in front of him. "Tell me, Mr Scientia: do you believe you are fit to be King of Lucis?"

The muscle on the side of Ignis' jaw tightened and twitched. Had he really not considered this? Or did he simply see the futility of both answers?

"I… would be willing to try, Sire."

" _Try?_ You will not have the opportunity to _try_ , young man—you will do or your will flounder and there shall be no chance for reversing what has been done. Are you prepared for that?"

Regis counted the seconds.

Then: "No, Sire."

"No," Regis repeated.

Of course he wasn't. No one was ever prepared for that. It would have been more concerning if he thought he was, but—

"You will not propose marriage to my daughter. Not now and perhaps not ever in the future. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Good." Regis stared him down for a moment. "Now be gone."

And he fled.

Only after, did Regis have the good sense to hope he didn't tell Reina.

* * *

A/N: Also, proof-reading this, today, had me thinking about the hilarious chaos that would have been Reina's trip through puberty with a single father and a twin brother... and a grandfather who only had one son.

Right, well. There goes my productivity for the day. It's on the to-write list, boys and girls (and everything in between, obv).


End file.
